It’s 1:00 AM and I’m staring down the barrel of another all-nighter, with a presentation on postmodern literature to give at 4:00 PM. I’d be lying if I said that starting this any earlier would have improved the quality of it, which is good, because I’m not going to.

My opinion on the academic charlatanry I’m forced to indulge in on a monthly basis still stands, but I have to admit that I kind of enjoy this, and will miss it when it’s gone. There’s a certain pride to be had in receiving a pass mark for handing in a load of pseudo-intellectual garbage. An honour in beating the system. It’s a bluffing game, and one that I’ve learned to play quite well.

So far, anyway. If I crash and burn during this presentation and break down into tears in front of the class I suppose I’ll take that back.