And once again, I am fallen. A three-day record of normal sleep patterns was broken yesterday when I woke up at one, having only gone to bed at five a.m. due to a four-hour phone conversation with Russ. The afternoon was chatted away with Tamara over caffeinated beverages and mammoth sandwiches at the happy place that is the Old Compton Street Cafe.

Attempts were made at European Community law during the night but abandoned amid screamed obscenities when, in an impressive display of clumsiness, I managed to spill peppermint tea on my desk. They say its aroma has therapeutic effects, but I must say I didn’t quite feel myself to be particularly calm while floundering around elbow-deep in soggy lecture notes.

At this point I should say that entries here might get a little sparse in the next couple of weeks, while I’m trying not to fail my second year. But do keep popping in. I promise I’ll try not to be boring.