Twenty minutes ago I was sitting in Bridgeman, flopped over a chair blissfully drifting off into a deep sleep during our last-minute-but-trying-to-look-like-we're-not panicking revision session. One can of Red Devil later (Towers vending machines are devoid of the proper red stuff) and I'm positively awake and ready for anything. Well, anything apart from electronics.

The exam this morning went well. An early rise, and an early breakfast allowed me to do some last minute scanning through the reams of second edition abridged and paraphrased re-notes. I got in there and made my way to my seat. Four hours later (exaggeration) I made it to the back of the hall where my seat was, dumped myself into my seat and got underway with two hours of Materials Processing fun.

Now it may just be me, but does using a fog horn to signal the start or end of an exam ever come across as being a little... erm... extreme? I spotted it today; the invigilators all give each other a secret wink and then chuckle under their breath while they watch the guy with the air horn (who hides at the back so no one can see him) lift the cannister and administer the most annoying, unholy noise to the entire hall. It's quite a feat of choreography to get 2000 already nervous students to jump out of their skins in unision.

As far as I am concerned it went well. Three out of five questions were completely straight forward, and as that is the required number which constitutes a full paper, I think I have that one in the bag. I would be disappointed with a low grade as I felt I was fairly thorough. However, my breath is held, as I said the same thing to myself after the last materials paper and low and behold a poo-grade.

The parents were on a mission this morning to try and contact me with wishings of good luck. Short from mobilising the entire fifth battalion to bring my good luck message, I received a multitude of electronic signals (albeit after the exam) including voicemail, a text (only the second one I have ever received off The Father) an email from The Mother and a phonecall. It may even have paid off.

Tomorrow marks the end of an era I will only be too glad to see the back of. I am of course refering to my 9-12am engagement in the New Sports Hall, where I will finally meet and hopefully destroy my current nemesis. Electronics has for too long been my enemy and the sooner it comes to the end the better. It's strange that when I was at school, electronics had such appeal, and at A-Level (where I took it as one of my subjects) I enjoyed it. This year however has been an uphill struggle, and it's not even as if it's particularly new stuff - we seem to have covered the same content, just in slightly deeper depth. I can't help feeling that I am now going to have to spend next year digging myself out of this pit I've got myself into in order to salvage what I can of this degree. And only if I had decided not to do the BSc this time last year. As Goody says, "Hindsight is 20/20, gentlemen."

Evening food was once again in Linford today, and god it was nice. I looked at the chicken with digust - the same green face I give in Towers canteen when I see their equivalent dish, but the major difference today was that this chicken tasted like... well... chicken. And the rice was soft.

Compare this to lunch today where I opted for half of a vegetarian pizza (there was no meat option) and some watery, sludge of a salad. On approaching the salad bar I was once again amazed at the selection of pre-made assortments before me. I don't know if they are having a good old laugh behind the kitchen doors, but spot the odd one out in this combo: Ham, Pasta, Mayonnaise, Peas. I'll give you a clue; it's not the pasta. Who the friggin' hell comes up with this? Some other nice selections that have featured in recent times include:

• Sultanas and carrot shavings
• Potato and onion
• Cucumber in mint sauce

Now I don't often have a rave about Towers food. In fact, most of the time I'm fairly content with my saliva-laced jacket potatoes, but this takes the biscuit. I'm still in anticipation of one day receiving my personal favourite; noodles and broccoli, or that all-time classic; porridge and celery.

Come on Friday.