Although, by the end of the Christmas holidays, I was sort of getting sick of the snow (shock horror, I am getting old, I know), but I think that was mainly due to Saturday night when the taxi couldn't make it up my road and I had to slip and slide all the way down while the driver sat at the bottom staring at me, waiting with baited breath to see whether I would go arse over tit and fly headlong into his car. Which I did. He then proceeded to explain to me the concept of an igloo and tell me all about the depth of the snow in the 70s, when he 'was a lad', and how I should be thankful that I didn't have it worse. Sitting there soaking wet and bright red in the face, I was finding it difficult to be thankful about anything other than the four litres of Strongbow I had in my bag ready and waiting for me to drink when I got to Taaryn's. Why I decided it would be a good idea to drink three out of the four litres, I will never know, but I do know that it came to a sticky end, mainly involving me falling into a tree and knocking it over in Taaryn's living room, scattering soil all over her cream carpet... Thankfully, Lyn came to the rescue and
helped cleaned it up by herself. Needless to say, Sally and I went home shortly after and I have a vague recollection of chatting away to her parents when we got back, probably making a complete tit out of myself, but what can you do?
I had my last shift at work on Saturday and got offered a full-time job if I decided I wanted to drop out of uni. I'm not entirely sure why, given that I had been found earlier on in the day lying on the floor of the walk-in fridge with my tongue hanging out, pretending to be dead... (For the record, playing dead isn't something I normally practice within the workplace, I was waiting to be discovered by the person who found it amusing to lock me in there in the first place. Unfortunately, the wrong person discovered my 'body' and had the shock of his poor young life). But anyway, I am back safe and sound in Chester now and will hopefully keep out of trouble for a while. I had a minor panic in the car after my dad had picked me up when I realised I had left my laptop at home and we had to go back immediately and collect it. It was only after we had turned around and were almost home again that I realised I had actually packed it in my backpack the night before... My father was less than pleased, to say the least. After that we picked up a hungover Megan and thankfully the journey ran without further hiccups, even though I still have a horrid feeling I have left something important behind. I definitely do not feel like I have had a sufficient break from lectures, and the two I've had so far this week have been less than enthralling. Most of yesterday's lecture was spent listening to my lecturer ponder over why he kept getting Viagra e-mails and messages from 'lonely girls'. He came to the conclusion that they were lonely because they were sending porn to people they didn't know, so decided to e-mail back in an attempt to stop them. Unfortunately, the e-mail address did not accept incoming mail and, looking slightly put out, he decided to give up. This morning's seminar was not much better, mainly due to the fact that it made me realise how little I understood about poetry when I was asked what happened when the sailors ate the man in Don Juan... At no point in the poem did I recognise any signs of cannibalism, nor from the faces of my classmates did anyone else. Either my teacher is crazy, or we are all reading the wrong thing. Both of these seem highly likely, especially the former seeing as she spent a good half an hour ranting about how she doesn't think the queen can even read and how overrated childbirth actually is: 'I mean, if pigs can do it, it can't be that special can it?'... I guess not.
Edit: It has started snowing like mad in Chester, and we have since built an amazing snowman named Jeremy. This is him: