Oh, shut up, Bernard.

Today has been eventful. Well, if that is the word. As I had my grammar test a las nueve, I woke up bang on half past 7, in time for my alarm, showered (before going to a 9o'clock - this was scary - it never happens to me, ever) and then wondered what to do. I decided upon getting an early bus so I could sit and have a cry about French in the room before it began. This was handy as there had been a crash just before campus, causing queues. As a result of this, I made it in plenty of time, whilst others did not.

On the topic of the crash, it was very boring. A bus appeared to have collided into the back of a small white van, and as such, the transport network was crippled! Planes were grounded at Heathrow, ferries were not sailing from Southampton, trains were even cancelled in Japan. Well, OK, that is a slight exageration. But still. Eventful.

Then the cursed test. How I wish I could speak French. The first question was enough to bring everyone in the room to tears. And it just got worse. Articles, followed by pronouns, followed by relative pronouns, and the past tenses. The past tenses posed many issues - do I use the real past tenses, or the poncey literary ones which are thankfully slowly dying? I opted for the real ones. It was probably a bad choice. I don't like how so many people left early from the test either. I felt I could not concentrate afterwards. Bad times.

As if that wasn't tortuous enough, this was followed by, at 11 o'clock, my French group discussion, with the fakest French person ever. Faker than Sarko. If I'm honest, it wasn't as bad as anticipated, I got the text I knew the most, and managed to "eeeuuuuhhhh" and "bennnnn" enough to pan out the 8 minutes, so I can't complain. If I'm lucky she'll give me a high mark (for her), maybe a 50.

This may be last post, as I will either end up in prison for slaughtering the noisy fuckers sat opposite me in the library, or I will be hanged for eating in the library. Either one cannot end well.