I register at university.

I registered for my course at university last night around midnight. Back in my day you couldn't do any fancy shit like that. We had to queue for 2 hours in the driving rain in no celsius with just a light jacket and a pair of flip-flips. Online? These students today don't know they're born.

I registered for my car journalism modules (no choice, at least they look good - work placement at a car magazine? Industry in context? I'm looking forward to a glorious period of my life where reading Autocar is homework), gave my bank details so that they can steal £700 a month from me (not sure yet where it's going to come from, but I'm a pious man and intend to pray heavily. I may blog about it, it'll be proof that it works. Money first, then I'll sort out your cancerous warts and too-short legs) and I even told them about my A-levels, thankyouverymuchforasking.

Seriously though, it was grim up north (Wales) - it took ages, the queues snaked through the entire university building, they were very strict about going at certain times and having a surname beginning with B was nightmareish, I couldn't cope with those once-yearly early starts.

I'm kind of hoping that I won't have too many early starts this year - I failed my first year because of a 9 o'clock lecture. That's a story for another time, though. For the moment I shall just bask in my newly-rediscovered student status.