Debbienho !

It really has. I’ve got free Wi-Fi so let me slip this in before they catch me. I miss lectures. I don’t miss the teacher talking, or showing slides. (The memories I get of that one? How we used to squint at the tiny blinking dots projected on the whiteboard, and ask, ‘What’s that?’ because yes, we always sat at the back.) And I don’t mean I miss lectures like I miss going to them. In a four-day lecture week, I was in class like twice. (Which was still better than a lot of people I know. I only ever saw Ellis in school during exams, so.) I miss how we used to sit. Next to the window. Back. Left side. Nanciaga (and the Boss Martin) sat in front of me. She’s a fine girl so like every twenty seconds some boy would stop by the window and try to win over the heart that Sanchez had been holding since the first semester of Level 300. She had some coercive powers, so she could cajole notes out of their pockets and next thing we know, Nanciaga’s imbibing something with fizz and