Last week was the return of Random Wednesday with last LARP nightsite and a general huff about cleaning. You may be happy to hear that my office now looks like it’s being used rather than a bomb had detonated amongst exam notes and fabric. Or burgled. Whichever looks like my room did.
This week has returned to our usual Wednesday ramblings: stay tuned for the complaint of air-conditioning in lecture theatres …
It’s block module week here in University-land. The week that is both loved and loathed, the week where, for one week only (maybe two), you learn the mysteries of your degree, play with computers and/or stare at the board from the back of the room, squinting at the slides your lecturer is waving their arms at. It’s the week of weak wrists, aching joints, numb bums and squinty eyes, as well as the week where you don’t sleep properly, work long hours sat in the same airless room and reach the point mid week when your knuckles feel to be splitting apart and cry “why?!”.
It is important to accompany this cry with a shake of the fist and an icepack.
Sound familiar? Well, I’m sure when we’re out in the big wide world of work, working 9 til 5 in the same room will become the norm. Except then you have a routine, up at 6:30 and out by 8:00. Drive your little car (*beep beep*) through the traffic to work. Sit at your desk. Look busy etc etc.
I wouldn’t mind if block modules worked like this, but they’re infrequent (to allow time to do coursework, oh horror of horrors) and no routine can be established. By the time you’ve got into the swing of the week, the week is over and you’re sat on a Friday night in an empty house, rubbing your knuckles and muttering curses over this fiendish puzzle they have set you under the guise of “coursework”.
But nothing compares to the freak heating/cooling system operated in the lecture theatres they cram us into.
No. Not even the aching knuckles and sore butts and potentially permenantly screwed spine.
Not even this.
Now there are alot of people on these courses, from many degree programmes and many countries. Some are on career development from Industry, others are on an MSc with the university. Some, like me, are lowly undergrads shoved into the pack. There is often around 60 – 90 people in each group (sometimes less) stuffed in an airless room. It gets hot. It gets stale. It gets uncomfortable and icky.
So why do they try to cook us?
The heating is usually on – toasty warm and stifling.
But if it’s not, then the air-conditioning is on.
Personally I’d rather have the toasty warm room than the frigid north. People sit shivering in their coats, trying to wrap their clothes tighter around them and write at the same time.
Maybe it’s too cool our brains during these intensive weeks, but I’m not so sure …
Edit: this file extension made me smile, you can see how I’m feeling right now – Noah Model File = .Ooh