Today was perhaps the toughest of the days since I arrived on boat from my beloved Polska. I go to lecture like good student with my paper and my biro pen which writes in the blue, but the man who is in charge of the class looks at me like I have pooped into his breakfast cereals.
He tells me the class was to start earlier by one British hour because of exam preperation, and that I should read e-mails sent to me by my school. He also ask why I don't have with my person the new book from which we learn. I tell him I am not to understand what book he speaks of, but he goes beetroot in the face and tell me to leave.
Now I fail this class an