So much work...Literature poetry exam tomorrow and Thursday, maths exam on Friday, French oral next week...I think it's next week, might be week after next, it's soon anyway, I'm scared.
I have a feeling my birthday will just be shrouded by more exams and Miss Grover yelling something about Goebbels at me, at least Himmler is vaguely interesting, Goebbels is just a twat who made posters.
Probably shouldn't complain, after all it's the same for everyone my age if not worse. And I do get an extended holiday to recover, though my mother wants me to get a job, I refuse, what's wrong with being self employed? Selling felt tips on ebay etc...
Ah I was amused earlier by a friend who I shall just refer to as 'Desmond' who started claiming he had just had a flashback. Though my amusement was then destroyed by a friend of mine who seemed rather upset over something, which is odd for him, he's usually hugging everyone and speaking the name of the lord to cheer everyone else up. Odd day.
Work and England's DISASTROUS West Indies campaign aside, I am rather happy with life which is cool, super girlfriend, a family who provide me with cake, the chance to score a century, Lost...Wait no, Lost isn't good....SUNSHINE, yes there has been rather good weather recently, hoorah!
Now time to return to Gillian Clarke and her God awful poetry,
Tom,
P.S: MY CAT IS SNORING!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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