"Even if I got rid of all my problems, I'd just go out and get new ones..."

Couldn't Care Bear.
11:53 a.m. on 2003-05-19

This time in three hours I will be in an exam.

My first exam of four that will contribute towards my degree which, hopefully, I will recieve from Peter Ustinov in July.

But I don't care.

You know how people say worry is good, because it gives you an adrenaline boost? I could really do with some of that now.

I'm not worried. Bored, yes. Apathetic, definitley. Worried? I'm worried I'm not worried, if that makes any sense. I'm worried that in every exam previously I've spent the hours prior to the exam reviewing and re-reviewing my notes, but for this one? I'm watching Judging Amy and eating spaghetti in the shape of Pokemon.

I want to go home. I want to pack in university right now and go home. I want a 9 to 5 job doing some clerical stuff while I think about the scripts I'm going to write when I finish work.

I want to be in bed, eating box after box of Pringles and watching Swallows and Amazons, listening to the rain outside and trying to remember the very strange dream I had last night about a hooker and a Chinese guy with bright blue hair.

I do not want to spend three hours in an exam, scribbling off three essays about a subject I hate, then staring at the wall trying to figure out a way I can write a script on some spare paper and sneak it out of the exam hall without anyone noticing. Then realising I can't and giving up, spending the rest of the time watching the clock go round.

I don't want to have to do three more exams in a fortnight. Three more exams for subjects I hate and couldn't give a damn what mark I got in them.

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