Oops

I sacrificed all of my homework to watch Love Actually with my mother. Now I have a mysteriously familiar French paper to do for tutor woman, which I think I may have done once before way back in the doom and gloom of the school language block.

My Mum tends to have a very emotional response to films, so she had to have a box of tissues on her lap, which I would occasionally turn around to find her sobbing into over the breakdown of Alan Rickman and Emma Thompson's fictional marriage, or at any happy part involving Colin Firth.

I should really do the French paper now, but I loathe it with every fibre in my being and am still attempting to put it off for as long as possible.

That is all.