The Twilight Zone

I just went to get some tea - I was standing in the kitchen in my PJs, boiling the water, when one of my flatmates comes into the kitchen, STARK naked.

To be honest I wasn't really fazed by this - the only nudity that bothers me is my own.

So I carry on waiting for the kettle to boil as he sits down and starts talking to someone on the phone. Fair enough. My water boiled, I take it and go back to my room.

A few moments later, the doorbell rings. I assume my flatmate wont be getting it, being underdressed and all, but when I open the door, who is it? Him!

"I forgot my keys", he says.

I have found the Twilight Zone. It's in Pontypridd.

Room Changes

Today I had a study skills lecture at eleven. I got up, had plenty of time to get ready, and sloped on down to the right building. After establishing with a few others that this was the right room, we waiting for the lecture to start and went in.

About a minute in, someone mentioned Sports Studies. Strange, I thought, but maybe it's a mixed room - everyone has to write reports, right? (see what I did there?)

Five minutes in, we knew something was wrong - this was sounding increasingly like a sports-themed talk, and they were meant to be covering plagiarism. But the way was blocked - we couldn't get out and no one seemed willing to move.

Forty-five minutes later, we escaped, to find that the room we were meant to be in was right next door, and we'd gone in through the wrong doors.

The moral of this story:
1. Don't follow the crowd, even if they seem to know what they're doing
2. Look at the number on the door before you go through it!

Internet

"We don't actually set up your Internet, you'll need to phone the external company" Says the man at Customer Services, after putting me on hold for seven minutes.

I cannot be arsed, think I, and rifle around in my top drawer for that blue cable that was on the desk when I moved in.

I plug it into the relevant places.

That'll do just fine, says my laptop, and promptly connects me to the Internet.

Lesson learned: don't assume that being behind a help desk indicates that you know what you are doing.

Fire Alarms

As I'm sat in the small, pod-shower-esque loo of my room, this shrill noise starts and goes on for a second.

Then it does it again.

I think, "Oh Christ, it's the alarm, someone's burning down the kitchen with a casserole".

Sans knickers, I rush out into the hallway to discover it's only a test.

I hate fire alarms.