Woe

January really is the deepest, deepest pit of despair, from which only the scrabbling of tiny little desparate arms trying ever so hard to climb out, and the faint, hopeless screams of those who have unwittingly fallen into said pit can be heard.

Only been back at school for three days and already reassessing my former 14 year old relationship with education. No longer going steady that's for sure. Things that have gone amiss so far include...

The loss of planner (though has since been found so structure, memory, life will not, in fact, collapse into wallowing mass of nothingness. Which is a relief)

Lent copy of Juvenal to J, who has of course screwed it into ball, scribbled all over it, chewed it up and spat it out since, refusing to ever return it as claims it is indispensable to him. What I am supposed to do for the Juvenal essay is of course inconsequential and remains a mystery.

Complete and total disappearance of only good Ancient History notes made. Though suspect they may be in shreds at bottom of J's bag also.

Am going to end up in a Preston-like nightmare of a uni, due to nobody saying 'look at this amazing individual, we must snap her up'. Absolutely no sign of any acknowledgement from UCL, yet J has interview down there. He has already been offered place at Oxford so that is just plain greedy. Jeez. He never does any goddamn work anyway, just copies mine, steals my notes, and generally crushes me with his laissez-faire intellectualism. Phew, that was somewhat of a rant. Though necessary.

Accused of being a know-all. Well not in so many words. But only 6 in our philosophy class and I am always first to crack in the awkward, bottomless, everlasting silences when asked class questions, despite everyone knowing the answer. Not an eager, precocious type really, just need to fill the silences. But it is always with my own, tedious, rambling voice. The teacher requires me to not be quite so vocal. Oops (she whispers)

No sign of TimmyB. Still cuckoo then. And us still going to fail philosophy then.

Heavily involved in a ceilidh. Which is the height of cool. But is for Human Rights and Fair Trade. And we're going to the pub after. Also, on a related topic, still only 4 members of Fair Trade so seem to be required as a driving force. Despite me totally feigning any sense of authority or relevant knowledge.

One half of lovely couple I know is being forced against will to return halfway across the world, thus breaking them up once more. Tragic star-crossed lovers. Sad.

Mr S told a truly dirty joke. Which is always disturbing. (despite sniggers)

So, to sum up, January really is the pits.