The month of June, usually a sunny happy time when all people great and small celebrated the birth of Dave, had been clouded this year. Clouded, not only literally, but figeratively.
Dave's birthday paln had thus far been succesful, raising 100 pounds, with only a handful of presents slipped in by mistake. Unfortuantely, Dave himself had been unable to enjoy the success.
The weeks before his birthday, and his actual birthday, had been spent worrying night and day about completing his annual review. A paper, required only to be between 5 to 10 pages, needed to be handed in. It was almost 70 pages long before his supervisor was happy and he handed in it the morning after his birthday and collasped. Quite literally. He stayed in bed the rest of that day and the day after, full of cold. A handful of friends came round to point and laugh.
He appreciated it.
Days later, with his illness slowly recovering, he needed one final piece to complete his review and ensure him a place in Uni next year. He needed to give an hour long speech about his work to all the members of the department. His overall luck stayed with him, as his illness was almost entirely gone by the day of the speech, except for his voice, which was still gone. But who needed a voice to give a speech anyway?
He arrived 10 minutes early to set up. He had prepared a beautiful powerpoint slide show, with around 30 slides. He would give a brief over few of his topic, with historical references and explain what he had been doing.
15 minutes later, 5 minutes late, the first person arrived to watch. Another 10 minutes later they realised he was the ONLY person who was coming to watch.
"I have no interest in this subject," he declared, "You can skip the background information."
The speech was thrown out of the window. The new, improvised speech was considerably smaller, though still focussed very much on the slideshow. Until 5 minutes later, of cause, when the computer died without reason and the slideshow dissappeared.
"Alright, your supervisors are happy for u to continue next year, that will do."
... That was it? Months of hassle and heartache from his supervisor and it was all over with a "that will do"?
'Whatever,' thought Dave, 'At least it's over.'
'That will do.'
