Fume fume fume, vent vent vent

I have two classes for the first half of this semester. The second half, I have three.


I signed up for five. One, it turns out, I don’t need to do, because I am British and therefore exempt from the rules that mere mortals live by. The second one I can’t attend because it’s full.

Now, this is understandable, of course. But I know that it’s going to be practically empty in two weeks’ time, because that’s how it always goes with lit classes, and no one will officially leave the group, they’ll just stop turning up. So there still won’t be any place for me, because all students are bastards.

Well, I’m just going to read the bloody books anyway. I won’t have the lessons, and I won’t be able to do the essays, and I won’t be able to do the exams, but at least I’ll feel like I’m sort of doing something useful.

University. I hate you, but I love you. But I hate you. 


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