I'm in my room, having bread and my favourite chocolate spread, while almost everyone else is out marching, sweating buckets, and probably cursing at their commander. I decided I had just about enough of marching last night, when I came back to my room at 1am, with my feet screaming in pain, shriveled up and pale because of soggy socks. My body just wanted to plunk itself onto the bed, and sleep forever.

So I woke up this morning, suprised to feel a twinge of guilt for not going to practice. This is already my second ponteng session, and over here, it's "Three strikes, and you're out!" and suddenly you find yourself in front of the same commander who's hurling insults at you next semester, while all your friends are doing something fun like photography or debate. Enough to convnce me not to ponteng anymore...

While I am rambling on about marching, something really irksome happened last night. I ended up standing next to HIM, when they arranged us according to our height. AND in front of his jellied friend. If that's not hell I don't know what is...