Dad and I went out and bought an ADSL wireless modem/router today, and I bought a wireless adapter. Plus Dad faxed off the forms to the broadband people/automated machines and that will clear in five working days, they say. We also went to the Galleria where Dad used his $30 A&G voucher to help buy a $70 book and I used my Trax voucher to buy a CD and I’m currently being serenaded by the sweet, sweet angst of Something for Kate, The Official Fiction.

Dad managed to hold me hostage over the state of my bedroom for about a week and half. (He thought it was “unacceptably messy” and so wasn’t going to send the broadband forms off etc until it was “clean” and I’m standing in the middle of my room going “where? Point to these ‘piles of crap.’”) So finally, my personal space has met his standards and I go into his study so I can call for ADSL modem quotes and there isn’t enough clear space on his desk to lay a piece of paper. Un-fucking-believable. /rant.

The election is tomorrow. I’m a booth captain, so I’m setting up, handing out Greens how-to-vote cards all day, taking down in the evening, going home and praying. Then there’s Sunday and all of a sudden it’s Monday and I’m back at uni. Back at uni in less than three days. I’m. So. Not. Computing that fact. (While I’m here and on topic – are you good for coffee 3pm Monday, [livejournal.com profile] cupidsbow?)

It’s going to be rather odd going back because I’m starting a whole new course. I’ve been here for three years, I know the ropes but this time I’m not going to know a soul, and it’s going to be a totally different (well, quite different) method of marking. (Records management appears far more objective than the BA, which stands to reason, but I’m hoping it’s not going to be too much of a culture shock.) So, we shall see.
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