University has Began

Throughout my life I have never slept well, I can't get to sleep and when I do, waking me up is a tricky feat. This feat is made more difficult by the "yes, I am up", which my sleeping mind manages to say without a hint of drowsiness to whoever is trying to rouse this slumbering bear. Better yet is when my mind deepens the lie by making up an activity such as putting pants on, or even watching the rain through the window. Sleep issues aside, I have actually attended a 10am and a 9am lecture this week. They we mostly introductions, which is lucky as any good book supplier clearly only ships to Lichtenstein, because the suppliers I'm using actually ship via Lichtenstein. Two lectures in and I haven't incurred the hatred of a tutor, this is progress on last year.

I'm in tomorrow at 9am again, presumably because the English department want to ready me for a lifetime of early starts and monotonous trudging through corporate England. Carrying what seems to be a popular stance, I'm actually really looking forwards to this year of university. The workload has increased, but as I did little work last year, I should be fine if I put some effort in. Hopefully the traditional demographic of "1st semester - lots of work, 2nd semester - lots of slacking" won't occur again, but then, as I've read half of one of the books on the reading list, I've already surpassed last year.

It's nice to see the familiar faces again, it's as though the last five months didn't happen, like we were all in hibernation, and now that the hub has finally been finished the rocks have been rolled away from the cave entrances and the stretching begins. It occurred to me the other day (Tuesday) that I have had the same ink cartridge in my pen for two years, which really indicates either the high quality of Parker, or the low quality of me.

My student loan has floated in, and swam straight back out; it's really beginning to sink in how much I need a job. I even questioned paying £12 for a navy t-shirt, that's how stingy I've become, it's like the Masters is anchoring down my bank balance.

I am determined to go back to the gym, it really needs to happen, as I am unfit and quite unwilling to shell out any money for a manbra, or mobra, or whatever label was deemed less emasculating to describe a support for huge man-breasts. If it was me, I'd have named it the WinBra, which is infinitely better than the WonderBra. WonderBra implies awe or reverence from the name, which seems pretentious. WinBra does what it says on the tin (or strap) and simply succeeds.

Somehow the post has descended into inane (note: I did not miss an "s" out of that word) ramblings on male support equipment, but that's always the risk you take when you blog.

Next post will be about Short stories, and finish about domestic terrorism.