Moan Kampf.

I'm aware that promising a Blog with "exciting regular updates", and then not updating it for ages, is a way to lose the three readers you actualy have, so sorry, guys. I spent the last few days mostly wondering if the internet wanted to hear about me wandering aimlessly through rooms humming to myself before deciding that no, it certainly wouldn't.

I think it's probably some sort of pre-Uni defence mechanism, this crushing apathy of mine. By achieving a state where I don't do anything, I become too bloated to care that in six days time I'll be crouched in a corner of a tiny room while drunken people try to bash my door down, in honour of an ancient Edinburgh University tradition I forgot to find out about (and my, do they have those: I discovered today that the Duke of Edinburgh is the Uni's Chancellor, a discovery akin to learning the old name of your school was "Herr Hitler's Male Correction Institute". Things are getting worse by the day). I really, honestly don't have any idea how I'm going to cope: I don't drink or drive, let alone both at the same time, and the most illegal thing I've ever done is stealing a complimentary sugar cube. I feel like a very ugly sacrificial lamb.

In other Uni news, my stupidly expensive pack arrived today (From Newcastle, inexplicably), full of questionable student offers, from corparations, and questionable student writing, from students. I read the Survival Guide with mounting panic, as sections on drugs (with in-jokes) gave way to sections on "how to deal with the police", while my inner censorship advisor from the fifties muttered "Good Heavens" over and over. The only practical thing I really learned is that I have even more work than I thought I did, and Arts students almost literaly have none at all, a maxim that basicly translates as "life isn't fair". You learn all sorts of lessons at Uni, you do.