#*pokes the plot*

My stomach churned.

Not only during the walks, also during the lessons that followed. Languages, history, social studies all blurred together a little. My stomach was not used to… this.

And by this I meant sugar and fat simply being dumped into my stomach. After a night of drinking. Really, what had I been thinking.

Maybe I still was a little bit drunk. Or something. I certainly felt a bit strange.

Considering that, I figured a little more sleep would not go amiss.

Telling Richard I really did NOT want to be bothered, and that he should spread it to the others, I trotted ack home. Sometimes I missed the messy, rainy digs – the parties afterwards were less likely to fuck up your brain.

With a bit of a grumble, I sat down, set out a water pitcher and started my homework. Interpreting, comparing, reassessing…

I worked through the source material and filed in the answers, scribbling a few hundred words per question.

With a sigh, I finished (headache not really gone) and proofread the whole thing before sending it in.

I was entirely sure I had not written this. Because I was not of the opinion that ‘all this is very funny, but taken a little too seriously. People laughed at this stuff at the time’.

I stared at the whole miserable piece of writing, emptied the last water glass and went to bed.