November 9 (Tuesday): A White Man Set Them Free. This morning I am up at 6AM with a lot more zip. This morning there seems to be less to get organised, so I’m out the door like a shot (number one with a bullet). Sara hits me on MSN with “morning soldier” but ain’t no time to play, especially with one that cheats.

I manage to get to North Station in the best of time and get on the sacred 6.51 train. This morning Moyles is so so. This morning, with my mind together, I take the correct/proper train to King’s Cross (Circle/District line) and actually find myself the first person to have arrived in the class.

I go take an early morning pee and arriving is a crazed biker student, caked in Tour De France lycra doing stretches in the hallway of the college. And I have to say, such a hardbody with a sweat on and a foreign (exotic) image/look, I am smit (aka turned on).

Phoebe turns up telling me about the fantastic fried breakfast she has down the road (where’s my invite?). This girl really eats in the best possible way, and when I say best way, I mean unhealthily without care it seems. By rights, such a diet should make her a fatty but nope, she remains gorgeous and awesome (albeit losing points for her new hair).

The class (course) is a pretty good one, I am feeling optimistic as many of my answers to class set questions match those answers on the board as per the teacher. Still, there is a girl at the back who persists/insists on asking stupid questions. In the words of South Park “there are no stupid questions, only stupid people”. The girl is a state, slightly tubby wearing a tight top which doesn’t quite pull all the way down revealing her gut hanging out. Gorgeous.

As things go my way, I find myself getting bored and fidgety whilst almost finding myself feeling pretty confident and upbeat over things.

At breaktime I find myself doing the usual bathroom thing and once more it only occurs to me even more just what fucking pussies trainee accountants are. Whenever I go to the bathroom they are all their, sat in the toilet stalls shitting and when you are lucky enough to find a free one, commonly you find that the filthy fuckers haven’t actually bothered to flush the toilet nor the turd away. I find myself having to flush a toilet almost half a dozen times and stuffing it with toilet paper in order to get rid of someone else’s faeces. Fucking disgusting. And these are my fellow peers in the accounting profession?

The course continues/persists and then lunch comes and lunch goes. Again today, I purchase one of those fantastic Italian spicy chicken sandwich rolls before heading back to class where I barely speak to Phoebe over the duration of the lunch period, I just cannot be arsed to talk to her, did we ever have anything in common?

I check my GPRS and discover that Emlyn Hughes has died. And tonight Liverpool are playing in the Carling Cup. Is there some kind of curse attached to them playing in this competition this year? In the last round, the day that the played was the day that John Peel passed away.

The course resumes and I begin to feel happier by the minute, I even wonder how on earth I failed this exam in the summer as I manage to correctly respond to answer after answer.

At breaktime I experience more insanity when some dumb black woman opens a window and hangs out of it and when the window rolls/revolves round full circle and hits her on the back causing her to nearly fall out of the window (fourth floor), she goes to me “what a bad design”.

The course ends and I begin to feel good about studies again, the rare thing of confidence has once more reared its ugly head back into my system and I feel fantastic!

I soon find myself home in Colchester, riding this crest of a good vibe wave and much appreciate a well earned, rested evening. Things are beginning to look good.

np: Butthole Surfers – Dancing Fool