the final countdown

If thought finals were bad in Provo until I came to this magical wonderland called London. Essays papers and study guides keep me locked in the library and tease me through the open window to the world outside. Does it really matter? I often ask myself. Last night it did not. The lads at fulham tore me away from the stress induced coma I have been living in for days. Chanting and standing then swearing and sitting, it was unlike any BYU game I have ever or will ever experience. Now I must cram dates and events into this small memory of mine until four o clock when I will never care again.