A Tale of Drunken Celebration and Annoying Repetition

*Warning. This post contains a first-person account of an evening under the influence of alcohol. Such material is only of interest to person or persons who experienced those events. Do not read.*

I completed the final stage of my dissertation process the other day. My 58-page, 13,000 word report had been submitted, and all I had to do next was present my project to others, explain and demonstrate the software tools I had developed, and describe how I had obtained my results.

There was no little amount of stress involved in doing this – especially when my bag decided to vomit my laptop out onto the street just beforehand.

But I’m not here to write about that.

I’m here to write about the aftermath.

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Ash-Matic Did an Exam


Like a gladiator walking into the colloseum, checking he hasn’t left his sword on the kitchen counter, I went into my exam, checking I hadn’t forgotten a pen.

Of course I hadn’t. I was armed to the teeth with a single biro, and five single back-up biros.

Invigilators prowled the room like hungry lions, ready to chomp down on the haunches of anyone with a phone, while the clock on the wall loomed large, counting down until the start of the exam like some kind of giant clock – only a little smaller.

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