Once I understand this tutorial topic, it'll be really easy. Now there's a comforting thought.   We were supposed to have a class on quantum mechanics with Dr. Brouard this afternoon. We all arrived at five, to be told the class was at quarter past. We re-arrived at quarter past to be told that since none of us had handed any work in, the class was to be re-scheduled to next week. We were also told that we'd be getting an exam to welcome us back after Christmas, even though he doesn't normally set one. How special do we feel?   Chris is now wounded. He went to play football, and came back with a damaged knee. He decided not to go to Fifth Avenue, but he still managed to walk all the way into town to go to the bar to see Sarah.   I gave up on the work eventually, and followed Chris and Mark to the bar, before going on to Fifth Avenue. In a radical departure from the norm, someone actually attempted to chat me up. Admittedly she was short, unattractive and had a shiny orange face ('looks just like a real tan, honestly') and so I was as unresponsive as I could be without being rude outright, but it's progress of sorts.   On the way home I tried not to step on the cracks in the pavement so that the bears wouldn't get me. The bears didn't get me, but I suspect I looked a bit of a prat in the process. Alcohol is a wonderful thing.   Chris' room was empty when I got back. It looks like a knee injury hasn't slowed him down that much.
			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.