The flats are now filling up as everyone returns before term starts. All this is reminding me that Collections are approaching. Nice little exams, just to keep me happy. Interestingly, although worryingly, as The Fear grips me, I do less work. Head planted firmly in the sand, I wander the streets of Oxford. I must get a grip.   Most people have come back to college now, and the flats are filling up with people disturbing other people. The joy of communal living. It's probably a life skill. Or part of a campaign for more hermits. 'CMH needs you!'. 'Loneliness is just a mind thing - hermit now!'. I would imagine it would be hard to organise. Meetings would be neigh on impossible. There must be a group of committed semi-hermits running the show, somewhere.   Dave has now returned. This may not be a good thing, but it provides comic relief. He claims to be Welsh, but was born in England. This seems to have produced some sort of mental disorder, since he is blatantly disturbed and tends to giggle uproariously at lots of things. He also seems to be unconcerned about sharing a flat with two women. We keeps trying to point out that he will be spending a year under the thumb, but he just giggles. Bizarre. I blame devolution myself.
			The characters and situations in this diary are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happenings. Any resemblance to such things is coincidental, or just for humourous effect. All names have been chosen to implicate the innocent.