Kate is gone. Turns out she’s one of those people who thnks they have things to do during the strike. Work or something. Pff.
Our friend Darrell has joined us and is already whining. Something about his bed being more comfortable than the student centre tablechairs.
We’ve had 10 or so visitors, who have been very kind and have offered to retrieve us things from the Outside. So far pajama pants, water bottles, earphones, crosswords, and a McDonalds order have been brought to us by various kind souls. Though, the pressure of being trapped inside has yet to begin, and hopefully their kindness does not waiver with the sunlight which is quickly dimming.
Iain has decided to join the crew, and has brought with him a gift of clementines to keep us from getting scurvy. For him to win he’ll have to stay an extra four hours after the last one of us leave.
It is common opinion at the moment that this game may well continue until the strike is over. I know I am way to stubborn to leave while the game is still going, and I have a feeling some of my colleagues feel the same way. So I guess here opens a plea to the Union and the Administration: the only way we’re actually going to get out of here is if you put classes back into our schedules.
Of course, it is perhaps too early to be making statements like this. Once the atrophy sets in, then we can judge how our mood will affect the outcome.
Yours Truly,
York_Hostage
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