Well, tomorrow will be the grateful end of the last three years of my life. I’m graduating…at nine o’ clock in the morning…fuckin’ Derby Uni, useless as ever!
I have my dress planned and ready (and by “ready” I mean screwed up in a ball and on the floor somewhere, doubtless hidden beneath other clothes), tickets at hand, a camera to charge, and to top it all off…major toothache. Today was my second appointment in the Save Sinead’s Teeth Whilst Causing Her As Much Pain As Is Humanly Possible campaign. Lady Dentist cries GREAT SUCCESS.
I consoled myself with books. My Stephen King collection is getting out of hand…soon, one bookcase won’t be enough.
I don’t doubt that graduation-related photos will materialise over the weekend…aren’t you thrilled? For now, I’m going to relax with what remains of Titus Groan, attempt to eat some soup with bread & butter (seriously, she used so much anaesthetic, I can’t feel my face at all), enjoy some more stunning tennis courtesy of the Australian Open, and go to bed early. Looks like a disgracefully early start tomorrow, to get there for half seven. 
