By Rachel Ogbaretin

Is it really over???

I think d&ad broke me slightly, not sure how or when but I pretty sure it happen when I was giving my second vagina monologue to DJ the Saturday before deadline. I really think we getting through with that one. I remember gradually getting more and more sick as we got closer to deadline until I was having fever dreams of talking tampons trying to give me a smear test but all it could do was to fist me with his cotton arm. It wasn’t very useful seeing as I’m still waiting for my results from Dr Flo. I dreamt the night after deadline that I had won a white pencil and made a Instagram profile with the sole purpose of dipping it into various red things such as ketchup with the ocasion middle finger here and there, just to prove a point, I don’t know what the point is but I’ll know once I get my hands on one. Also jeremy corbyn liked it alot.

I had a lot of weird dreams during this whole thing, I had one weird rave dream about all the glow in the dark models I worked on with DJ and tarun. Sadly it was not sexy at all and I felt it was all too art house of a dream for me to get into. The ladies were dancing too fast and I’m pretty sure one of them was Pete so I’m gonna blame DJ for this for some reason.

After a week of D&AD being officially over, I still wake in a cold sweats as those mysterious wooden pencils float around my mind, forever plaquing my mind. I question myself constantly.

“Is my idea simple enough?”

“Does my video answer the brief?!?

“Are the talking tampons friendly enough, will women trust them?”

“Have I properly tutored Mr Daniel about a women’s period?”

When I start to delve in to this state of self doubt I casually take my wooden pencil from last year and cradle it in my arms in order to gently remind me that a D&AD pencil is not everything.

It’s the food they serve at the dinner party that matters. This thought calms me as i could easily buy those snacks at iceland and i just lose the luxury of it being served to me by a cute girl, then i remember again that I can just look in the mirror for that too.

I’m glad D&AD is over but a what cost? Did I really have to lose some of my santy for the sake of a bleeding puss puss, was it really worth it for when I close my eyes to see nothing but watercolour red? The marc in my mind says yes but the marcia in my hearts says no but the people reading this scab may think i have finally lost it, which is fair play to them.

The tampon has yet to send me my result of my test, i fear the worst.