My first exam paper starts tomorrow and yet here I am, slave to the age of Information Technology.
Its been a quick, albeit not painless eight weeks. I've felt every day, though now when I look back they blur into a mass of ambivalence. I've grown miserable for lack of choir, and all the benefits that come with it (I refer to the PEOPLE). Of course, not ALL the eight weeks have been completely without their moments of brevity...the trip to Barcelona, numerous trips up to Cambridge, mucking around the Dissection Room...but the crowning glory...
This weekend, a mere five days before my exam, I left by my lonesome on a 2hour train journey from London King's Cross to YORK, for what can only be described as the sole shining light in the past...twilight of 8 weeks.
That's Jo and me in York Minster Cathedral. Why else would I be so happy right? Not like there's a lot to see in York...I mean the scenery and ducks are ok, and eons better than Tooting, but face it, Cambridge rocks when it comes to scenery, as shown earlier. It is of course taken for granted, that anything is better than Tooting.
Jo has to be the luckiest girl in the entire world...brilliant flatmates, ensuite room, Poundland a bus ride away...oh the grass is SO greener on her side.
Ok! That's it from me! Back to considering the implications of end-life decision making. Ta!
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