Bloody First Years

I have survived the first week of uni without spontaneously combusting from embarrassment.

In my first history lecture the room was packed. It was dark and solemn outside and under the fluorescent lights every body in the place was sweating into a coma. After spending a few minutes herding us into every available seat the room was settled. An exhausted, post middle-aged lady made her way to the microphone and began a sentence rehearsed every year. That is when the girl finally found the right room. Bustling in through the door, my lecturer stopped mid sentence, she ducked her head to avoid too much attention and sat in the aisle, not wanting to further intterupt by finding a seat. She was then addressed in a patronizing manner. "Is there a reason why you prefer the aisle to an actual seat." Everyone in the room could feel the poor girls heart jumping out as if it wanted to save itself from this girl's embarrassment. Scrambling to the other side of the room hastily the room was settled again. Not one person would know her name but her introduction had been made. This was my fear. No one wants to be that girl. You want attention to be paid by your own invitation. Not because of pity.

In other news uni is making me a caffeine addict. There is something about sitting in the great court sipping on a latte that seems so fitting. This is not good for my wallet. I could sleep during a nuclear holocaust so that really isn't a problem but constantly having a coffee cup in my hand is going to break the budget. And now I have decided that I really must try every cup of coffee every joint in the uni has to offer. Not good.

So now I have to head back into uni (wow that still sounds weird). Trust me I am going to be early for every lecture.