The Best Weekend EVER!

This week I learned how to survive for five days on a budget of approximately ten pounds. I had a nasty little surprise from my bank on Monday when my cards were refused in Waterstones during my attempt to purchase some vital books for an Old English class. Looking at my balances, it turned out that my rent had gone out of my current account without my student loan having come in and I had somehow managed to eat to the bottom of my student overdraught on the other account. Calling the Student Loans Company, it turned out that the university had forgotten to tell them that I was in attendance this year, despite my registering all the way back in August. When I finally managed to get to the registration desk at the university, I was told that they’d buggered it up for virtually everybody and that I should get my loan on Friday.

It intrigues me that they could let us queue for over an hour at a desk manned by only two receptionists when they could have just sent out a mass email to give us that kind of information: academic bureaucracy never ceases to amaze me. In the meantime, I had to make the last ten pounds in my pocket last for a week when I had no food in the cupboards…

Consequently, I got a bit devil-may-care on Saturday. I should have gone back to bed after the early morning staff meeting at the cinema but I instead accepted an offer from Gwyn and Adhur of joining them for breakfast. I managed to get myself a beer at this point, too. That morning I began to realise that some of the things that were bothering me when my little holiday started have fallen by the wayside in the couple of weeks I’ve been away from the cinema. It will probably come to pass that some of the bigger frustrations I’ve been having cease to be important now that I’m down to a mere twelve hours there each week and, as for the little things, it turns out that my libido was just playing tricks on me; if I had good reason to worry, some things would have made their importance felt to me more often while I’ve been away. (Sorry if that’s all a bit cryptic but I don’t know who reads this blog and I’d prefer that people asked me questions directly than get the wrong end of the stick about something, especially given that my workplace’s gossip-mongers rarely get the right stick…)

So, to conclude, there’s a happy Rob sitting scarily in Birmingham this week. He’s had three days of drinkage (Friday afternoon, Saturday night, Sunday afternoon), had breakfast with two incredibly beautiful young ladies and he’s got the money to fuel a whole semester of student hedonism. If anyone can tell me how a weekend can be any better, write it on a postcard and I’ll tell you where to shove it.


~ by Scary Rob on 8 October, 2006.

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