Manchester Students for the Exploration and Development of Space
Dear reader, this newsletter is to provide news, updates and general information to our support staff, sponsors and students on all of the projects and activities on ManSEDS.
Season's greetings! We'd like to wish everyone good luck with their exams during the exam revision holiday.
The Night Before Exams
'Twas the night before exams, when all through the house
Everyone was panic revising, even the kitchen mouse;
Study timetables were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that the 25th Jan soon would be there;
The students were crying all stressed in their beds;
While visions of no future danced in their heads;
And housemates all drinking, and I in my crap,
Desperately pleading for a long winter's nap,
When on the front door there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my desk to see what was the matter.
Away to the burglar alarm I flew like a flash,
But not before stealthily hiding my hash.
The uber on the breast of the unrepaired road,
Gave a lustre of warmth to the porch light's glow,
When what to my grieving eyes did appear,
But my takeaway to lighten all the exam fear,
With a little old driver so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be the fried chick.
More miserable than my grades he approached through the rain,
And he sighed, looking skeptical, asked me for my name:
"Now, Dominoes! now, McDonalds! Kentucki Fried Chicken!
Oh, Luigi's! oh, The Local Chinese!, Kashmiri Spice Indian!
Come to my front door! To the living room squall!
Dash away student loans! dash away! dash away all!"
As in any exam season, when I start to cry,
When I meet any learning obstacle, and just want to die;
So up to the bedroom the students they flew
On the verge of breakdown, like the NHS too—
And then, to a car starting , I saw from my window view
The delivery guy begging for a five star review.
As I lied yes through my teeth, and was turning around,
Down the stairs the non-STEM students came with a bound.
On the way to a house party, out of the house they flowed,
Shivering in the cold and underdressed despite all the snow;
Bitterly envious, to my room I headed back,
Dreading going over the great past-paper stack.
Still down the street I heard laughter and a whistle,
Wincing as I bit down on some chicken gristle.
I cursed under my breath, retreating out of sight—
“I swear to god I will hang myself by the end of the night.”