A good day began as a very bad day.

I had a drunk moment last night at 1 o'clock in the morning, and decided to call Mr. Greene. He woke up and I started shouting 'get up, get up!' at him. He started mumbling angrily then the line went dead. My automatic assumption was that he'd hung up on me and hated me (as you do when drunk). I had black stripes painted on me that then streamed very untastefully down my face..

Woke up feeling like I'd made a huge mistake, but I was soon feeling better amongst good company. We all took a stroll to this building, Ashton Court, which is where we will be having lectures for the next three months. Not bad!