It's the end of a semester and exams, final assignments and presentations are due. You've spent the last week revising your project, a project worth more marks than the whole year put together, making sure everything was set correctly, debugged and tested and you are ready to go. Everything should go just fine.

Or so I thought.

In my presentation I got criticized down to the clothes I was wearing. This coming from people wearing clothes that would make roadkill look elegant.

As the co-ordinator sat there criticizing my clothing (black shoes, white socks, black pants, white shirt, green sweater), in walks a professor (late) wearing a bandanna, short biking pants, hiking boots and a stained shirt. Oh-kay. That's a fashion statement, forgive me.

We were to start at 8:30. At 8:30, beside the anally retentive (and particularly bitchy this morning) co-ordinator, there were a total of 4 students and 2 professors out of the 6 that were supposed to attend. We had to present while people kept walking in, right in front of us.

One of my team members got into an accident and arrived late. We got criticized for that too. As if.

As we all know, power gives everyone such an incredibly big hard on, one idiot professor started making comments like "If you want a mark, you'll have to give me the project on your zip disk" even though the files were clearly stored on the server as instructed.

And since we had not been slaughtered enough with their nasty comments, they had to sit there and nit-pick on all the things we did (specified by our clients, I may add) that to them, OH-GRACIOUS-NEW-MEDIA-GENIUSES that they are, found incorrect. Frankly, I don't give a shit if you don't like the shade of blue we used. The client does. Fuck off.

Best of all, I got the shaft because the computer I was doing my presentation on was not set up correctly. Something they should've thought of before. Yet I get accused of being unorganised for not testing it before. Well, geez, it works on EVERY other computer in this class, BUT that computer, I wonder how I was supposed to know.

8 months to go to get an incredibly stupid piece of paper on something I already know, taught by the most incompetent professors ever, ones that make the those in the "Institute of Advanced Learning" (one of those little basement buildings that teach you the same stuff in only 3 weeks) possible competition. I am stunned. Higher education my ass.

Bitter. But still determined.

Lord Lansdowne enjoys writing his misfortunes and happenings caused by his interesting life curse, and harassing customers at where he works. He doesn't hate his college. He despises it. In fact, he is very bitter and is plotting world domination.