Seven Hours of Statistical Hell
OK, so I was wrong in my prediction for the FA Cup finals. Bah. Chelsea? Manchester United? Who cares? I support Arsenal anyway…
I have but two nights to go before the first paper of the exam season – the killer research methods paper, comprising tons and tons of statistical verbiage – but I’m sitting here totally stoned, weighed down with food and unable to plough ahead. Of course, I’ve just had the benefit of another wonderful dinner prepared by the Celebrity Swinger Chef, who prepared a delectable selection today, featuring a star bak kut teh pot.
It’s nice to get together with the gang again, for such opportunities are steadily dwindling, as some of them begin to head back home in the next couple of months. I’ll have the good fortune of hanging around in London till late summer, and I intend fully to be rampant around London in the coming weeks, spending less time in my room. I’ve just about had enough cooping myself up here.
Yet this was a most productive day. My good Canadian friend from class swung by Goodenough, and together we did some exam revisions for a full seven hours, by which time our brains had exploded, splattering the room in a spectacular kaleidoscope of colours.
It wasn’t a pretty sight. Yet we didn’t even manage to find time to discuss multiple regression. We’ll have to meet tomorrow to go through more head churning exercises.
I have but two nights to go before the first paper of the exam season – the killer research methods paper, comprising tons and tons of statistical verbiage – but I’m sitting here totally stoned, weighed down with food and unable to plough ahead. Of course, I’ve just had the benefit of another wonderful dinner prepared by the Celebrity Swinger Chef, who prepared a delectable selection today, featuring a star bak kut teh pot.
It’s nice to get together with the gang again, for such opportunities are steadily dwindling, as some of them begin to head back home in the next couple of months. I’ll have the good fortune of hanging around in London till late summer, and I intend fully to be rampant around London in the coming weeks, spending less time in my room. I’ve just about had enough cooping myself up here.
Yet this was a most productive day. My good Canadian friend from class swung by Goodenough, and together we did some exam revisions for a full seven hours, by which time our brains had exploded, splattering the room in a spectacular kaleidoscope of colours.
It wasn’t a pretty sight. Yet we didn’t even manage to find time to discuss multiple regression. We’ll have to meet tomorrow to go through more head churning exercises.
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