Let the lame speak

I didn’t think that somebody who is not a visiting Briton can burn so badly. I looked like an embarrassed crayfish on heat. To compound the agony even further, my muscles are still sore from playing beach soccer two days ago. Aah, fun...

Well, it was fun. The few days by the sea and in the sun did me good. Everyone needs their share of (reasonably) isolated peace from time to time. I’m back now, however, and I’m done gallivanting around outside the greater unicity for now. I only have two weeks of vacation left and after that I am faced with my second year at university. Apparently US has decided to shorten the academic year to two semesters of fourteen weeks each. This is great news... if you are studying a BA course. For those of us who have modules like the infamous Mathematics 244, this move has increased the pressure ever so slightly. Honestly, Mathematics, even from school days, is the only subject I know where the lecture time is fully utilized and in the end time still runs out before the syllabus has been covered to satisfaction. But we shall persevere. I believe the first year was there to sift through all the hopefuls to find those who actually want to stick. In the second year, workload increases to test the metal of those who made it. I foresee (probably naively) that in the third year will provide some relative relieve. Tally ho! In the next two weeks I’m going to explore the possibility of perhaps rewiring my course a bit. If I can succeed, this will mean that I’ll only have two subjects on which I’ll have to write exam! For the rest I’ll only be evaluated on throughout the course of the appropriate semester. Mixed blessings.

When I returned earlier today I found that, in my absence, Bevermol has left our enclave and headed north to go study at RAU this year. This caught me completely by surprise. There had been rumours that he might leave, but I mostly discarded this as mothers’ idle gossip. I have had not seen or heard from him for the entire holiday, so I wasn’t in the clue to anything. Well, Bevermol (or whatever incarnation you dream of next), I wish you the best for the year! Cheers!

A few places to go to and people to see still. I’ll raise my voice again after the two decade transition.