This week is a revision week. That’s right, I’m revising. I wish revising for exams had been this easy when I was a nipper; I seem to be spending four hours a day watching videos and just an hour a day reading a text book. Piece of cake! Well, actually it’s Lemon Meringue Pie. But it’s nearly all gone now. Anyway.
I did a different course a few weeks ago. That one concluded in an exam and resulted in me getting a piece of paper with my photo printed on it, from Ofcom. I’m now licensed to communicate, which is kinda odd because I thought I’d been doing that since my first words. Anyway.
I have been in the classroom for the last few weekends, and this weekend is my last weekend; it should end with a pair of exams and, if I don’t completely muck it up, I’ll be given a couple of pieces of paper with my name on, just in case I forget who I am, obviously.
I hope I don’t muck it up, but it’s been a strenuous mental effort trying to drag my decaying braincells through the syllabus. So if I do duff it up, you’ll hear weeping from this direction. And wailing. And gnashing of teeth.
OfCom want your photo now?
They weren’t so needy back in my day.
maybe it’s because you is such a handsome fella.
I dunno if it applies to mobile/shorebased comms. Maybe it’s something to do with being internationally-mobile? However, you should take comfort in the fact that in that photograph I look like an unsmiling meat packer from one of Argentina’s least glamorous suburbs.