Disappointing

One of those real non-event kind of a days. Nearly started off disastrously, as I fell back to sleep again, having killed the snooze button on my mobile phone. Fortunately, Eddie woke me up to tell me that he'd be catching the later bus into college. A close call, that one. A lightening quick shower (for me), and the adrenaline of being late kicked me into action. Made up time, and ran down the road for my lift, as normal.

Nice to see Sarah again – catch up on her soap opera home-life. Made the journey into Falmouth pass that little bit quicker. Wild and windy, but still so mild. With the heater cranked up, I was sweating in my shirt-sleeves.

Derrek's lecture a waste of space again. The first part was vaguely interesting, as he waffled on about his own experiences of publishing, and proffered handy hints and top tips to us wannabes.

(many of them quite unrealistic, like: set up your own publishing company. Yeah, right).

Dashed down to the IT suite to print off the homework he'd set us over the break. Clearly, another waste of time, as he's not going to read them. The second part of the 'lecture' was just a repeat of what he'd delivered prior to Xmas. Think I wrote down virtually identical notes as last time? Was only writing to try and stay focused, as it was so deadly dull.

Made a point of being sociable, and eating lunch with the others in the refectory – oatcakes and squashed brie, as we'd no bread at home for sandwiches. Forward planning all gone to pot, we were out of milk too. Photocopied some work placement forms, which I must fill out after logging off here, then over to the Media suite for the dreaded website session. But, no tutor! Apparently he thought term started next week? So frustrating, couldn't get on with a thing – was just kind of blankly staring at a screen full of rubbish templates, and awful design. Means that producing something of any merit, by next Friday, is going to be nigh on impossible. So it really was one of those days. Real shame, as I was looking forward to the buzz of student life again.

Bought a memory stick from the student shop, and some special coursework discs, so at least it felt as if I'd achieved something. Am getting to the stage of being paranoid about losing my work if the computer goes down. Backed some of it up on cd, but have no idea which/how much? Doh!

Really wish I wasn't so computer incompetent - would make things so much easier if I knew how to do stuff properly. And save so much time.

Got dropped off in town as we were in desperate need of toothpaste; had been squeezing out the last dribs for several days now. Had a peek in Argos to check out their printers – see if there was anything going in the January sales. Yes, maybe, for around £40. Still following up the free-cycle lead though, that may come to fruition on Thursday. Fingers crossed. Is a pain in the arse having to email everything to myself, and the printing's not cheap doing it that way.
Somehow, wandered into Peacocks, and came out with a cute new bra. Only £2.70, I have to justify to myself, thanks to being marked down half-price, and my 20% student discount, (got to have some kind of pay-back for the three grands-worth of fees, surely?).

Staggered home, laden with the usual bags of Co-op food shopping, in time to take the kids to Hayle for their dental check-ups. All, relatively, clear thankfully. No obvious concerns with Billy's teeth in spite of his recent tooth-ache. Lucy, just needing fissure sealant. She looks so ultra skinny in black, in her black, Humphry Davy uniform. Seemed even more gangly than usual laid down on the horizontal dentist's chair. Not worrying, exactly, but do need to keep a closer eye on her, and make sure she's eating enough.

I was starving by the time we got back, oatcakes just don't do it. Was straight in there, in the kitchen to get dinner on the go. A five minute gap, time enough to write a cheque for their capitation fees, before heading out the door another time for the scout run.

Called in on their father on the way back, as he's more or less incontactable by phone, and miracle of miracles, he was there. Wanted to find out how the skin-thing was going, but difficult to ask without coming across as prying. Probably lymphoma, he seems to think, but has to have a CAT scan to be certain, which he's having done soon. The lesions on his arms are melanomas. Doesn't sound too good to me, but he's on about daffy picking over the next few days. We almost, almost had a normal conversation, but inevitably it evolved into a rant on his part. I amazed myself by not reacting, remaining calm and reasonable throughout. Must be feeling sorry for him.

Still no word from Graham. Does my head in, these obvious silences. So uncomfortable.