You know when you tell everyone around you about something, and big it up enthusiastically; not exaggerate exactly, but by reiterating something it kind of reinforces it in your own mind? Well I am guilty of not chanting the ‘I am really enjoying college’ mantra this week even though I had been saying this to everyone else around me when asked how it was going.
Don’t misunderstand me; we are four weeks into it now and I am really enjoying it and working hard. I have made some nice friends. Well two actually, but come on it’s a start! One of them burst into tears on me and hugged me for grim death whilst she poured her woes into my ear (and down my shirt). I accompanied the other to an open day at Birmingham City University at the weekend where I was mistaken for her mother!
I went to the bank to sort out my student account. ’Just call in to your local branch they will be able to help you’, I was breezily told. Ha! Not so fast! Firstly you need a letter from the college to say you actually ARE a student (and not a pensioner – it seems they are mutually exclusive as far as the world of high finance is concerned). Then you need to fill in a 27 page document signed in triplicate in blood and then you have to wait to see if the powers that be will deign to give you a student account. Not much in it for them you see, whereas at the moment I pay £12.95 per month for a very special account which gives me lots and lots of special things. I have no idea what they are, but I get a pretty card that has lots of faces on it that magically move in the light like holograms, so I’m glad my monthly fee is being put to good use.
After the bank I went to a retail outlet to take back a shirt that was too small and exchange it for a larger one. Well, you would think I had asked for the moon on a stick! When I originally paid for the garment I used a £5 voucher (which I stole from my husband but they didn’t seem to notice that it said Happy Birthday Richard on it, not Happy Birthday Sue) and then I asked for student discount on top of that. So I invite you to picture the chaos that ensued, deciphering that little lot on the till without an appropriate button for such a transaction. Computer says no! Just swap the bloody things over woman! . . . same top, same price, different size. How hard can it be?
I then had all the domestics to do when I got back, no-one else in my house knows how to empty a bin. Or unload the dishwasher. Or change a toilet roll; it’s very specialised and can only be done by experts. Then I made dinner, popped to the doctors, served dinner, did my maths and sociology homework, cleared up dinner (do you want me to eat it for you as well?), did the ironing…I need a drink!
However I am pleased to say that all was not lost because the maths homework from last week was OK. I did quite well actually. I got 100%. Not bad for a start is it? And thus I am reinvigorated and ready to face the challenge the rest of the week will bring.