I sat in a pub for over 3 hours today. How did I end up there? Completely by accidental chance. OK, lets forget about the pub story, start from the beginning of the day. We will get to the pub story eventually.

I woke up for no reason at 7am, thought, "fuck it" and closed my eyes again. Woke up again at 9.30 am, thought, "Screw this" and shut my eyes. Woke up at 10.30 am, thought, " alright, time to get up" and shut my eyes again. Woke up at 11.55am, thought, "Shit! I'm late!"

My essay was due in at King's Manor at 12pm. I leapt out of bed and rang the undergraduate secretary.

"Hello, can I just check what the penalty is for being late?"
"5% deducted off your mark, followed by 1% every subsequent day."
"Oh ok... because I was wondering whether it would be worth it to rush there today since I'm already late anyway"
"Oh that's alright, I'll be here until 2pm, as long as you get it in today, it's fine"
"Really? Thank you! I'll be there in half an hour."

Such a nice department I study in. So I hopped onto my trusty bike and pedalled furiously towards the city. And on the way I passed lots of the other first years on my course heading back towards campus.
Sam Carter remarked as I passed him, " you're a bit late aren't you?
James Taylor yelled after me, " Run! Forrest, Run!"
I almost knocked down James Ross when turning a corner and he chided, " You party too hard!"
(James Ross sits beside me in lectures and enjoys making jokes about how I am a wild party animal who dances the night away because I keep falling asleep in the many boring lectures)
Yes. I got there in the end and handed in my essay without incurring a penalty.

After handing in the infernal thing, my heart was light, the sun was shining and the world was beautiful and good once more. I went shopping at Sainsbury's and bought lots of chocolate. I'm going to die of chocolate soon. May I request: "Death by Chocolate" in my epitaph?

I got back to my flat around 4, had tea (psychedelic Iranian tea kindly supplied by Mehdi and chocolate-covered ginger stem cookies). In the kitchen with me were Anna, Rory, Clare (other blondie in my flat) and her boyfriend). Anna was being really keen and studying for her summer term module in Germany (she's leaving York for good after this term), Rory was writing an essay and Clare was distracting Rory by asking for advice for her French oral exam. It was nice being the only person there untroubled by thoughts of work, for the moment anyway. I fed Rory most of the cookies because he is hungry/greedy all the time. Then I got out the ginger snap biscuits, gave him 10 and told him that was his quota for the afternoon. He is one of those people who don't get fat. Just like Mehdi. Conventional wisdom says that most guys are like that, until they get to their 30s, then they start expanding sideways.

I had nothing better to do so I cycled to the library to return some books. I had a wander round the academic journals section while I was there. An article in a statistics journal tried to dispel widely held belief that left-handed people die younger and one in an electron spectronomy journal discussed the unique properties of i-don't-know-what molecule under a scanning electron microscope.

I got back to the flat around 6pm. And still had nothing better to do. Sat in the kitchen with trying to do some background reading for next week's seminar but wasn't in the right mood for it. Gave Rory some feedback and let him bounce ideas off me for his essay. Then decided to go for caving training because I was really bored.

I got to the Sports Centre to find the five other cavers just leaving. Apparently, they had gotten bored and had decided to go find some food instead. They asked me to join them and I did. We walked to a pub just outside town. (See, I kept my promise of telling you the pub story) I got a lemonade and chocolate cake with ice cream and cream. Luckily, one of the other guys was a teetotaller as well so I didn't feel to weird ordering something wussy like lemonade (don't actually like lemonade at all). The chocolate cake was good though. I thought the plan was just to get some food and leave but they ended up sitting there for hours, drinking pint after pint and reminiscing about caving adventures. Debbie (another fresher girl) and I weren't really able to join in the old farts' conversation but it was pretty interesting hearing about the crazy things the caving club got up to. Fun stuff like driving to Serbia to do a joint expedition with a caving club there. Getting stopped by Bosnian guards with big rifles and twisted ankles caused by being shoved underwater in underground streamways. It is the collective hope of the outgoing committee that the new one will work on recruiting more lunatics.

I walked back to the college with Debbie Flowers and we talked a bit about next year's accommodation. She is getting a house with 5 other people, two of whom are cavers. It is set to be the venue of caving club parties next year. She asked about my arrangements and I told her I would be staying in college residence (more expensive but less hassle. My mummy's call, not mine). She asked, "Aren't there any people you want to live together with?" (Because college accommodation is allocated, not chosen). I replied no. I know some pretty nice people but nobody that I really, really feel I NEED to get a house together with.

You see, If I got a house, I would have to really like every single person in the house or else it would be so uncomfortable. In college rooms, I just have to be able to get along with the others. Of course, I also have the freedom of spending more time with the people I really like. In a house, there would be much less choice because there is too much common living space. But houses around here are rather nice. Maybe in my third year.

In the meantime, I'm content. My flatmates are nice. Hope next year's ones will be good too.