Well, in the aftermath of the 'battle of room 12' we no longer have internet access in my place. So here I am, in an internet cafe in Baker Street expressing my thoughts. My parents are here in London; we're holing up in one of the apartments nearby. Which kind of explains why I am in Baker Street too.
I've been stuck in my room for the past couple of days now, reading up on Equity and Trusts. You never really know the meaning of boredom until you've read the thing you're supposed to read at least 10 times, repeated it in your head at least 5 times , and (if you're lucky enough) find a sod unlucky enough to be within earshot and polite enough to pretend to listen to you rant about the thing at least once a day. In this case, the unlucky (and extremely polite, I might add) sod is my sister. Merci. And a lot of that too.
I think I am an intensely boring person.
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