I hate you and your stupid little grids.

My dissertation tutor is, without a doubt, the biggest prick I have ever met. I’m quite tolerant of most people - and very few can truly get under my skin. But this bloke is a total, total… a word has yet to be invented to describe how totally whatever-it-is he is. But he is one. And a total, total one at that.

I’m feeling rather pleased with myself at the moment, though, as I had a massive go at him this morning. The icing on the cake was when he denied telling me something a few weeks back - “What you’re saying I’ve said to you is complete rubbish, Blake.” - to which I presented a scrap of paper with his writing on to the contrary.

And having slated my dissertation synopsis efforts for the previous twenty minutes, at the end of the tutorial he said: “I can see this is going to be a good piece of work.”

Fluffing idiot.

I’m so annoyed. I’ve just wasted three hours waiting for a bus, given up and come home. My hayfever is really bad. And England are playing in the World Cup as we speak. Whoop de doo, the whole country must come to a standstill because football is so important.

I wouldn’t mind about the football but everyone assumes that everyone else is interested, even if it is only vaguely. I hate it and everything about it. I especially hate it when people that aren’t bothered about football at any other point in time come out of the closet because “England are playing”. If you’re that passionate about supporting England, join the army or something else that actually matters.

I hate, hate, hate children singing in television adverts - more so when it’s a group of them at it. It’s bad enough in proper songs, but I can avoid them easily by not listening to music. (Sod off Another Brick in the Wall.)

But in television adverts? That’s almost an invasion of privacy.

I don’t think I’ve ever been more annoyed than I am now. And it pains me to say that it’s all over a sodding bow tie - because I’ve spent the last four hours battling with the bastard and still can’t tie it properly.

Someone else has also annoyed me greatly today. And I want to punch them in the face. Hint: The deep-level line of the London Underground that is represented by the colour black on the Tube map.

If I hear that god-awful Ocado advert one more time, I *will* write to Ocado and tell them exactly what I think of it. I’ll make it sound all serious - claiming the advert is sexist in assuming the delivery van driver is male. Then I’m going to hit them with: “It sucks balls.” Or something to that effect.

It looks like I’ve got to rethink the title sequence I was going to do for that pilot episode, as the theme tune has been changed completely (different mood entirely) and now won’t work with my clever idea.

Bugger.

Typical. I haven’t really been on my computer for a week and now that I’m back, Tetris has stopped working - even though this is my computer, which nobody else touches.

I got up early and went to Racodac *just* to drop by the employability department. But it was shut because broadcast students were filming in the corridor. This did not please me in the slightest.

I am, however, the graphic & visual effects designer for a science fiction / fantasy / drama pilot television programme called FutureShock. Hurrah!

I’ve just overwritten a lengthy document thinking I was overwriting it with an updated version. I wasn’t. And I’ve just lost three pages of work.

Big fat hairy balls.