Fight The Battle Of Who Could Care Less

Three hours sleep.
Spent the morning on a sugar high, ran round with manic glee.

Lecture with Gwyn. Poor her, she's a lecturer, we're Performing Arts students.

Stevo took a tantrum at her, one of the funniest things.

"Why the hell are we having to waste time with this fucking piece of shit crap when we could be on with doing stuff thats actually relevant to us and to our careers."

Kind of summed up the mood of everyone in the room.

To be fair to Gwyn she did take it all on board and work something out for us. She is a teacher and she does care about us. It's not her fault we have to do the module.

However she doesn't help herself when she uses sentences such as "I shall endeavor to assist you on the work involved in this module." Anyone else in the world would simply have used the words. "I'll be around to help if you need it."

She's too highly educated and organised and rational. A manager's dream. On a dry literature course she'd have been great. We ain't dry, we certainly ain't literature. We are action people, and unfortunately Gwyn's lectures bore us stupid.

Imagine an out of control nursery class, only with kids who are old enough to know that they can get away with not caring. Pauley drew a picture, Ed fell asleep, Tim started playing a music video on his phone, Eric Prydz of all things and just sat there gawping while the music blared.

It's not that they disrespect Gwyn, it's that they simply couldn't give a sweet goddamn.

I'm used to jumping through hoops, it doesn't really bother me any more. Fortunately it does them.

Did some Hamlet stuff, came home, resisted temptation to buy. Sugar high coming and going.

Losing the light.

Must go see Sabs and Linz. See if I can't sort things out. To be honest, probably can't. but gotta try.