May 13, 2005

I Can Always Let You Down

One evil bastarding exam down, and a mere six to go.

It could have been worse. I could have caught the ebola virus and my organs could have been liquifying as I wrote, bleeding out of every possible body-exit, but in general, my health was good and my biros worked and I didn't run out of paper and I got the answers down.

Better than the exam was the conversation I had afterwards at the Coffee Mill with K and (bonus!) one of my classmates, L. It was one of those classic student what's-life-all-about conversations, with the added happyfactor of having two philosophy students present and one aspiring theologian. Fertile ground for lots of interesting bum-brown. (Although of course I recognise that poo does not grow out of fertile ground; rather that poo is actually what makes the ground fertile. Not dog poo though - that contaminates it and can make children blind. Remember that if you're in the mood for perpetrating a victimless crime. By victimless crime I do of course mean a crime you probably won't get caught for.)

Tis such a shame that I only made L's acquaintance toward the end of the college year. I have proved to be a bit of a social failure in university since September, but never mind. If I had any more dates with non-college friends pencilled into my imaginary calendar for the next two months I'd have to employ a body double to fulfil them, so it's probably for the best.

So I was expecting to come here today and find the website down, as forewarned by the stylish and glam Dave who generously provides me my server space, but it did not happen. Woe to me when I hit the publish button here and a wormhole opens in my office. PAP! I'll be forced to get inside to have a look (curiosity always gets the better of me) and then I'll probably disappear into infinity, failing to turn up for my nineteenth century literature examination tomorrow on the Industrial Novel. (Even saying those words makes me feel a combination of sleepiness mixed with self-loathing.)

Well, off I go to cram a year's work into a few hours. No bother to me. Sob. All the while to the medlodious backdrop of my absent neighbour's house alarm. So...soothing.

neuro-praxis -- She's Been Corrupting Bosco

Posted by neuro-praxis on May 13, 2005 02:02 PM, in the category