Why one ought never study Latin in one's spare time.

Today my Latin class went to the state library, with the exception of 16.6(insert infinite sixes)% of the class, because Mersini couldn't make it.

After a few hours of questionable productivity, we gave up on Cicero and went for a walk through Hyde Park.

In doing so, we stumbled upon a fountain which was just a low pool with jets of water shooting upwards.

And being mature young ladies who attend a selective school, we proceeded to take off our shoes, roll up our jeans, and run around in the fountain.

After a few minutes productively wasted, I stepped on something. It was painful.

As it turned out, it was a piece of broken glass I hadn't seen, and it was rather painful. Monica then pulled it out, which resulted in more bleeding than had been taking place directly previously.

So I hobbled onto dry land, and started elevating and compressing while Sophia discovered that although she has a fist aid certificate, she is made uncomfortable by the sight of blood. Go figure.

In the mean time, Monica and Elsa ran off to get Dettol and Band-Aids.

I was then patched up, at which point I hobbled off to St James station with Sophia, Monica and Elsa, then hobbled from Redfern to usyd, at which point my mother berated me for my stupidity as we walked to the campus medical practice.

I then had Betadiene swabbed on my foot, so it's now yellow.

Moral of the story: don't study latin in your free time. Ever.

It will only end painfully.