When I imagined living out of home, my expectations were pretty high. I expected to get involved in a sport, eat healthy, and be productive with my work. Sadly, reality has a way of interfering with imagination.
I woke up this morning to rediscover that my bread and butter - by which I mean my bread, weetbix, milk and butter - had been eaten. Frustrated and tired, I opened the fridge to see what I could eat. I found; half a carrot, some jam, a few eggs, and two giant 8L tubs of sour cream filling up the void of the bottom half of the fridge.
The dream of eating healthy is dead. But at least I can stay fit, right?
No.
God, no.
My disgusting diet of sour cream and eggs has left me with very little energy. I can barely summon the energy to walk to upper campus, yet alone go for a rewarding run. I'm panting and sweating just writing this blog post...
Also, all my running gear smells like cat feces and vomit - what I do in my own time is MY business, not yours. I could wash the clothes, but that involves stumbling past the kitchen where I will inevitably get redirected to the fridge.
I can still do well at Uni, right?
Well, we'll see. The only good lecturer I had this semester finished her section of the course, and now we've been given another lecturer. Sadly, the new lecturer I have does the standard 'read from a power point until all the students fall asleep tactic'. Experiencing 4 years of this at UNSW has made me want to start up a reality TV show. I would find all the incompetent professors at UNSW, lead them away from Uni with a trail of bread crumbs, redirect a school bus of 10 year old's into the University, pay each kid $3 and a lolly pop to stand at the front of a class and read off the power point, then check whether actual Uni students notice an improvement in teaching quality.
Of course, for the show to be successful I'd have to cut to a scene of puppies playing in feathers or woman's volleyball.
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