Diary of an up and coming sociopath

The beeping in my pocket signifies one thing. My phone’s battery now lasts approximately 16 hours before shutting down. 16 hours it has been since I awoke, zombie-like, from the blissful sleep that was to be painfully interrupted by obligations unwanted. 7:30 in the morning never felt so vindictive.

It’s not that I can’t bring myself to get up, it’s just that in the face of all against me, why would I want to? I braved the cold to get changed, I weathered the walk to the bus stop despite my breath condensing on my face in the cold. I examined with a mild half-drowsy interest the strange bumps of South Park that I’m relatively sure are drainage channels, but I seem unable to confirm either way.

The bus was late. It’s always late. No bus to anywhere ever at this time of the morning manages to be on time. A £75 bus pass secured passage gratis to Wheatley, and the four of us managed to find seats upstairs despite the bottom floor resembling a cattle lorry. The journey to Wheatley is always a hard one to recall, between repression and semiconsciousness, but I briefly am cogniscent of a route change that adds some minutes to the already extended journey.

The lecture theatre was cold, I remember that much. We clambered over dess to reserve our seating for the next 2 hours, and fortuitously so, because as the minutes progressed more and more the room gradually filled up until I’m quite certain it became technically a fire hazard. Quite how someone makes a module compulsory for BCS recognition and then fails entirely to provide an adequately voluminous room, I don’t know. I remember little of the lecture itself. The assertion that “I don’t know what you think you know, but the pass rate for this module is…not good. You will probably not pass.” sticks in my mind, though the rest of the lecture becomes blurry and jumbled. I remember packet switching. Network Architecture. Trying to remember in the bleak mist of thought what the “TCP” part of TCP/IP stood for. And…some guy. The lecturer? He stood at the front and spoke in rhythm-timed English, scribbling strange boxes with no apparant meaning on overhead slides while trailing off sentences.

The next 2 hours were spent in a computer room. I remember a lot of debate as to whether we were actually going to stay at the Uni ending when we read the practical notes and they implied horrible things for those that dared to ignore the practical allocations, or something. I went on IRC for a bit, cirumventing the Uni’s rules by merely downloading and installing ViRC. When the lunch hour came we went to the newly remodelled Wheatley food hall and had, unsurprisigly, some food. They have, in addition to adding new tables and seating, franchised the hell out of the formerly university-owned eatery. Amusing, really, but it brings it in line with the rest of the stuff. And they now sell chicken and roast potatoes! I’m sorely tempted to buy, especially next week, when I’m going to be stuck there all day AND working.

After that, we attended the first half of the HCI lecture, which, now that at this point in the day I’m slightly more lucid, things seem a bit less ephemeral and I’ve simply ignored most of it, and thus have nothing to comment on. I vaguely recall the lecturer making an idiot of herself by failing to get something to work and then saying “oh, it’s maybe because I’ve run it before without restarting and the register needs to be reset.” I don’t know what planet she’s from, but on this planet, that sentence doesn’t make any sense towards computing. Anyway, we made a hasty exit after a short break around the 45 minute mark. By which I mean we waited until she was about to start, realised that there’d not be another chance and just legged it out of the room. It asn’t exactly stealthy, but she only saw the back of our heads ;-)

Afterwards, we went to do the practicals. The last practical involved making a “rocket launch simulator”, which I extended into a “challenger shuttle simulator” complete with explosion and “OH NOS!!1!!11!” caption. It was all in good bad taste, I assure you.

Got back in at around 5. Nikki had bought me the TRoT single I was complaining about not having the other day, and it turns out it’s good. I am pleased. I also hoped to have the Cheque from home, but it turned out to be a letter from the Warwick and Leamington Conservative association, basically asking for my money. Great. After, I ate, did the usual stuff, and then before I went to sleep, but after Nikki did, I spent some time talking to Nicky (RenegadeChic) who I’ve met a few times and spoken with a few times. It turns out we have much in common. Not least because we get mistaken for girls, perhaps? I’m talking more about the transformers/easyworld/war of the worlds interest. He was already on my list of easyworlders who aren’t medically insane anyway, but he’s doing himself many favours with his good taste and nature.

I have no specific plans for tomorrow, but in various order, they include buying teh TRoT album, going to Toys R Us, and getting my £181 deposit back from the robbing bastards at Isis. Wish me luck.