aaaaaaaaaaand we're back.

First day of uni today.

I got there early to hit up Coop for my tax leg before my lecture. Made my way through the line, got to the counter just to realise, DUN DUN DUNNNN, I had left my wallet at home.

Luckily K was just leaving the house as I called and I caught up with her at uni to pick up my wallet. Thank god.

Anywho, my tax lecturer looks like a bikie wearing a suit (with a bow tie and red pocket square!).  I respect that he has industry knowledge (nothing bugs me more than know-it-all academics, offence intended), but I find him seriously intimidating because the words "fucking" and "bullshit" fly out of his mouth (draped in bits of spit) in the middle of every sentence. Swearing won't make me like you more.

Stop trying to make tax law cool, because it ain't.

Like CTFD dude, it's just tax. Stop yelling at no one in particular, it's too alarming for a 9am class.

I have him again tomorrow morning. *hangs head*.

I'm either gonna sit up the back or wear a poncho to avoid getting rained on by his spit.