You'll be the death of me, Mr. Procrastination.

One can hardly call a 6-week holiday a privilege when your bedmate through the winter is an enormous chunks of work, and a start-of-term exam test (ah, what a lovely life to be! No wonder there's a facebook group called 'I'm a NatSci, get me out of here!') looming ever closer and closer. No, I refuse to call it an exam. To be, an exam is when it actually counts towards the general marks. No, I won't get thrown out even if I don't do well (hopefully). Even if I'm not blessed with genius brain, I am blessed with what sounds like 'bridge's only director of studies who's out to eat you there and then.

To scare myself than anyone else, here's my list of unavoidable Evil.

- Revision of all lecture notes during last term (sounds simple? Well, it sounds simple until you see the sheer amount of paper in my room. Hah.)
- past Tripos questions for QB, Cells and chemistry (Can't do them, too darn difficult, but oh well.)
- past Tripos essays for Cells
- (optional, but going to do it because I'm a masochist) redoing of some of my less-than-satisfactory essays set during last term

Current progress of Evil : freaking 0%

Oh Mr. Procrastination, you'll be the death of me.

Sometimes I think it is tragic that I love my subject with my heart and soul. I am a born bespectacled geek scientist and I know it myself. If I hated the subject it would make my incomprehension of the course material less tragic. (Well, admittably, except quantitative mathematics, which I abhor, and has atrocious marks to go with it.)

I suspect massacre of English grammar. You know? For once I do not have the heart to check it out.