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     Sarah put in an appearance this morning, so she evidently hasn't seen the error of her ways yet. Oh well, give it time. Mark and I were on our best behaviour, and only made a few double entendres with the occasional bit of innuendo. 'Getting carrots' was mentioned. Sarah also read the diaries and didn't attack me with a sharp instrument. This can only be considered good news. It is possible she may attack Chris for having me as a flatmate, but I am less worried about this as long as the blood comes out of the carpet. Today was enlivened by the joy of a Sunday tutorial. This most civilised concept nearly became a minor annoyance when the first group took an hour and a half and the second and hour and a quarter, leaving me, in the third group, three quarters of an hour late with the prospect of a long tutorial ahead. In fact the tutorial was astonishingly brief - only forty-five minutes - which leads me to assume that either (a) I am wonderful and understand everything perfectly or (b) Dr. Greene was sick of the sight of us. Take your pick. Dave is definitely after something. He came round this afternoon and wandered round 'looking for something to screw'. He was holding a screwdriver at the time, but I think he's having the same difficulties as Mark and I. The whole Sunday-work problem reared its ugly head again. Is it a whole week since the last one? Mark and Chris went to the Union with some mathematicians (who never have any work). I stayed in to begin work on my epic work 'A Night In With My Testosterone'. Andy Jackson came over to assist me in setting up my network card, and so I am now connected to the outside world. This could be a very bad thing. I shall be strong. After I've had a wander around the internet for a bit. And checked my e-mail. I'll just have a game of Quake. Three in the morning? The clocks must be wrong.... |
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