Bad day Wednesday

On Wednesday the 12th of March, 2008, I had my first ever horrible uni experience. It went something like this: 

It all started the night before when I had to read basically all of Romeo and Juliet (because I left it to the last minute) and subsequently went to bed at 3am. As a result, I had minimal sleep, woke up late and missed my 10 am H2H lecture (it didn’t matter too much, because the lecturer was absent anyway and I ended up watching it on the net instead). So I ended up having to catch the 10:05am bus to the train station, which is where my bad day really began. As I proceeded to walk to the gates, a train (not the one I needed to catch) arrived. Not realising this wasn’t my train, I started to run but the gates closed on me. As I waited for the train to pass, I wasn’t standing in a good position, because when the gates opened, I was trapped! Well I thought I was and I kinda started to panic; so there I was standing like an idiot, thinking I was trapped behind the gate while the other commuters walked passed me (probably laughing at me), until a girl informed me I could use this other gate that wasn’t electronically operated.  (I don’t know if any of this makes sense…[I’ve used the word ‘gate’ too much]…but basically I humiliated myself in public.) At that stage, I wasn’t feeling too great and had a bad omen that the rest of my day was going to suck. Sure enough, I was right. In my Eco lecture, I was so tired that I don’t think I was even listening to the lecturer…I almost went to sleep. After that it was lunchtime, and even though I wasn’t feeling too great, I decided to go to the poster stall in North Court simply because I saw a lot of people with them and was curious to check them out. (I ended up buying three!)  1pm was approaching, which meant I had to head off to my Eco, Lit and H2H tutes. After my H2H tute finished, I got a lift home and as I was walking towards the car, I suddenly remembered I had left my posters in my Lit tute room. I don’t even know how I remembered, but when I did, I  immediately walked from Royale Parade all the way to John Medely tower (without my phone) to see if the room was still open. After walking up 5 flights of stairs, I discovered (not surprisingly) the room was locked, and since I didn’t have my phone with me I couldn’t call the number on the door so somebody could open it for me.  By the time I got back to the car I was extremely angry at myself for losing the posters and wasting my parent’s money. So that concludes my recounts the day everything went wrong. However, the only silver lining to this tale is the fact that I got some form of exercise having to walk to John Medley, taking the stairs to the fifth floor and walking back all the way to Royal Parade. (However, I think that was neutralised by eating Nando’s on the way home!)