Ah, another academic year begins...

we find our heroine barely into week two of her final year. The work is already beginning to literally pile up around her- a presentation on the Welsh language (Welsh?! WELSH?! why?) due on thursday, books lie scattered across the floor, notes enscribed on loose leaf pages, crumpled messily and shoved under the sofa. Let us not forget the 8000 word dissertation that constantly looms like a dark cloud on the horizon. Read this! Outline that! WELSH WELSH WELSH. Enough third person. Ahem.

On top of it all, the new flat has awful reception and the freeview box which bought much joy in the previous house is now all but useless, unless you happen to have a penchant for the trite that passes as children's programming, CBeebies, which I don't.

Despite this, I have spent most of the day camped out on our currently baseless sofa (another story in itself), which is still rather uncomfortable, staring at the grainy squiggly lined image of BBC1. For some reason, we have little or no reception and so staring at the TV is not recommended, unless you wish to either hypnotise yourself or acquire an eye condition.

At this point, this doesn't really seem like it would be a bad idea... Somehow, through my own incompetence and some miscommunication, I have landed the role of week 2 seminar presenter, topic of (no) choice, WELSH.