Like the Terminator...

I'm back. Like a Phoenix, I rise from the ashes of my own shittitude. Actually, when it comes to this damn blog, I think I'm a bit like wot Janet described in That's the way love goes: a moth to a flame. Och, well, I'm here now so let's not delve too deeply into my inconsistent writing record.

Today's my penultimate day at uni. Yup, it's my second-to-last day of classes. My second-to-last day of dragging my sleepy as through to Stirling on the train at a time even God thinks is ridiculously early. The second-to-last day that I will show up to the good old Pathfoot Building (actually, an architectural marvel, IMHO) without my suggested assignment. Don't worry, I probably won't change that for the last day — if it ain't broke...

And yet I dream of something more. The whole journey I have been alternating between tweeting my dearest ATW (topic: her awesomeness, natch) and thinking about wot's next for lil ol' me. Happily, I can report that I have that I possess some things that my father would label pipedreams, if he used such a word. And no, I will not be sharing them at this time. But wot I can promise is that I will do this a little bit more.

Now, if you detect any spelling errors, my apologies. I am usually very fastidious about that, but I'm writing on the iPhone. Fastidious is the word I'm thinking of innit? Basically, I'm saying I get fucked off when I see an error. But with the iPhone's damned predictive speller, it can't be helped.

I just re-read this entry: man, it's shit! I'm like Simon Cowell on this thing. I have a very special announcement: I will be making a special announcement shortly. V tedious. Especially when you know the announcement is that bloody Cheryl Cole is going to be judge on X Factor (Americans, all together now: Whoooooo??? Shit. I hope me coming back on the blog and ready to take my next, heretofore unannounced, step in life isn't the equivalent to the dud revealing of the former Mrs Cole. Yeh, no boos please?