I don't really have anything to look forward to at the moment, except to this day in two weeks' time, when I shall be gloriously, gloriously free. Looking back at my school days and reflecting on my current uni life, I realize that I have been getting through life by eagerly looking forward to the end of whatever current phase I happen to be in, just so that I can be disappointed by whatever comes next.

I wonder if this blog is starting to sound dreary or to smack of faux sentimentalism. Possibly, but I have sort of ran out of other things to say.

So. Man utd lost. Still, two champions league finals in two years isn't exactly a dismal record - let's just hope they will actually keep plugging away and not fade into oblivion.

Sometime around this time of the year last year, I was sitting wide-eyed in front of the computer at six in the morning, typing out a euphoric post-match uhm, post. I am not sure what else has changed, or what else hasn't.

So nearly two years on, and we are still reminiscing about the same things, seeing the same people, listening to the same songs.
I wonder if we are the batch stuck in time.

How do people live to sixty, and live with their mistakes? To pay penance for every wrong, to regret every loss; that would take another lifetime. Maybe we just have to move on and hope that at the end of it, we will have time to mourn. Or else there won't, and we will be spared the trouble.

Good lord.

Things I DO remember:
1. 'How am i going to clean this suit?'
2. 'We've all been there, man'
3. Getting on a cab
4. What's for dessert?

Am perplexed about :
1. The number of bruises I have.
2. My sore throat. Was either overly loquacious, or is a result of excessive, uhm, reverse peristalsis.
3. Why is there a Cambridge City Council bag in my room??