Your Mum.

Linear Algebra was actually quite interesting for a change.  I can't remember any of what we were learning but the lecturer will almost certainly spend 20 minutes of tomorrow's lecture recapping.  I was surprised to see a lot of my friends there considering it was a 9 o'clock start.

After the lecture I helped Adam with the probability homework even though he wants to do statistics next year; he really shouldn't be getting stuck on anything in this module after his A-level Stat's. 

On the way home from handing in my assessed questions I saw someone from the rowing society going to hand his work in and, as has been the case ever since I left the club, I was ignored.  Seriously, it was as if I wasn't even there.  There are a measly two people (and a half - was Simms giving me a nod or just agreeing with the friend he was with?) out of however many were in the club when I was who still acknowledge me if they walk past; the rest seem to have forgotten I was ever there.  But I don't mind, it means I have less people to be polite to.  Anyway, that was not my point.  My point was that this guy I walked past was talking about rowing training to his friend.  His friend did not seem interested.  I chuckled to myself inside. 
Later, on the way into the lecture, I passed the two of them again.  The rowing conversation was still in full swing.  The friend did not seem any more interested now than he had done before.  I belly-laughed to myself inside.

Bacon sandwich for dinner and then a big walk to the post office for a Mother's Day card, to the doctors for Liz to get a prescription for more moisturiser, to the comedy night venue so we know where we're going tomorrow, to mine for the bananas to make a banabar cake that we ended up not making, to the post box to post the Mother's Day card, and finally back to Liz's to listen to the Dave Gorman podcast. 

After eating the mince and returning to my room I checked Blogger to see if there were any new posts.  What I saw excited me immensely.

That sensation when something reminds you of something else
posted by Haze

Hazel promised to write a story blog for me so, naturally, that's what I expected this to be.  As I read, however, my heart sank.  It sank a little more with every word I read as I quickly came to realise that there was no story.  But I stayed hopeful - perhaps the story would follow the this-is-what-I've-been-up-to-since-I-last-posted bit.  It did not.  I was upset.  I felt betrayed.  I didn't know what to think or who to trust any more - I had so easily believed a lie; fallen victim to a cruel, cruel joke at my own expense.