Hopeful in the Blues

I'm adding more things to the list of what I miss about Australia:

Peanutbutter.
Vegemite.
Bacon.
Course outlines for uni, detailling info about the assignments as well.

In an effort not to let this thing become another anti-uni rant, I'll be quick: I don't have any outlines, there are no details on exams or assignments (including something as simple as a word count for an essay or even a friggin due date), there are no powerpoint slides, no notes on the internet, no idea of what will happen in the next class, and a general sense of unknowing.

My first class of the day is okay, except that I can't read the lecturer's handwriting. He also gives names of famous researchers and authors on linguistics only by their last name, doesn't provide any other info, so googling these guys might be a problem. I'm expecting to fail this subject.

My second class is a wank. The lecturer speaks so damn quietly that I haven't heard an intelligable sentence in weeks. She sits down and babbles for 80 minutes without writing anything down. I have a total of 3 pages of notes from 14 weeks of lectures. I'm expecting to fail this subject.

My third class is a nightmare. Italian. The lecturer makes me hate everything about Italians. She is incompetant, aims the lesson at the highest of students, doesn't help any student but simply repeats the instructions over and over, and doesn't explain anything. We have a 50% drop-out rate from the start of the semester to now. I'm expecting to fail this subject.

By the time I get home I am so tired and demoralised that I can't think straight. By Tuesday it's blown into an all-out depressive state that takes me until Thursday to recover from, but by Saturday I realise that I soon have to do it all over again. Blah.

But there is good news: only one week left.