How smashing

So this morning at 9:00 am we had a pharmacogenetics quiz weighing 15%.

For someone who spent half of yesterday cooking curry and the other half with their head up the vagoo worrying about being pregnant, there wasn't much choice except set the alarm-slash-Jez to 5:00 am and cram two hours' worth.

Thirt minutes later I went back to bed.

Jen is a major exam stressor. I'm very laissez faire about exams. I'd say the ideal attitude would be the happy medium of us both.

She stays up late to revise. When I start yawning, I sleep. She writes up notes for everything. I used to type up my notes because it was less effort-consuming but admit that now that I've started handwriting my summaries my brain is a lot more willing to drink it up. She studies on the train. I insist on spending travelling time discussing Bulgarian Idol. She reads notes even when she's walking. I sneak out my iPod.

Jen is also a post-exam stressor. We've both had our fair share of walking out of an exam feeling distinctly retarded, but she tends to stress over her incorrect answers while I sometimes forget which subject I probably just failed in gratitude of re-entering the outside world.

Today was a series of misfortunes. We were spotted over-collaborating and subsequently instructed to increase our interpersonal space. I grinned and beared several embarrassing moments when I looked up from my papers to check whether the coast was clear for a bit of x-ray, only to find the supervisor staring at me. Jen had similar luck and as a result we failed to obtain all of genius-Bao's answers.

In the end, sick of the post-exam discussion outside the lecture theatre, she stormed off mid-sentence. Someone else's sentence, that is. And it wasn't really storming. Just walking really fast. So fast that despite taking off after her pretty much immediately, I was almost asthmatic by the time I caught up.

I spent the afternoon studying at Jez's house, and summarised one week's worth of medchem. Jez finished his assignment.

Feeling particularly productive, we took his old PS2 out for a walk and smashed it to smithereens against the same concrete upon which we stood when we drunkenly shared our first kiss.