I dragged my sorry behind out of bed early this morning and oozed down to the library to start cramming ferociously for my final exam, which is this Friday.
You're a little behind, my friend, you say.
Indeed, I say, But only a little.
Summer has exploded upon the sleepy town of Cambridge, and it is currently a blasted eighty-one degrees outside. Now, that might not typically be an issue, but I do live on the fourth floor of a centuries-old building that was once inhabited by Alan Freaking Turing. Which means--it's really freaking hot up here. Predictably, there are heaters in every room but no fans because normal Cambridge students aren't around in the summer.
So it's just us. The miserable international students, sneezing and sweating away.
Holy madoodle. Housekeeping just came in and asked, "Would you like your room to be serviced today?"
Who are these people.
I had my (thankfully) final psychology lecture today and later in the afternoon turned in my final paper. Now, it's just cram time.
I went climbing again tonight, which was lovely. I'm sort of starting to get a feel for the really big moves of the routes around here. Tall people set big moves, apparently. The highlight of the night, however, was watching the intrepid Sir Andy attempt a 5 (V1) on a slight overhang. Oh, mama mia. It was like watching someone's grandfather try to shimmy up a tree.
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