Honestly, this is ridiculous. I keep meaning to put things up on here, but the combination of ragged Internet and epically low sustainable enthusiasm has left me bereft and fruitless. Also postless. Sort of the same thing.
Anyways, NO MORE. For neither love nor money will I let this continue (not that I have either of these things to wager, but that's a technicality, right?).
So, it's a Monday... time to start something new and repeatable. Like a post and a time to write it:
Here I sit, working my fingers and tail to the bone as a receptionist at the Student Union where I tell people I don't know the answer to their question and that they should come back tomorrow when someone else is behind this desk. And I get paid for this. It's brilliant. I answer the phone and take messages and get paid above the minimum wage. All this counts in the plus column for the day.
I also taught my first tutorials for the term-- they've got me back on Intro to Film again this spring, but it's an entirely revamped syllabus. SO many new shorts and artsy, cutting edge films which are not Braveheart... it'll be lovely. I've got at least one student whom I failed last year, but she didn't show up this morning anyway, so that's off to a brilliant start. There are also a few carryovers from the Intro to English tutorials I led this past fall (not that I told you about them, my poor, neglected, invisible readers). The one is a pretentious prig of a gent, but who isn't at 18, right? Especially one who wanted to go straight into film school but didn't make it? Yes, these are the young minds with which I have been trusted.
I'm still living in the same old flat, though perhaps not for long. It is the scuttlebutt around here is that the owner will be back in the Granite City on his next rotation and me and mine will have to find a new hole in which to hide. The rub lies in that this may happen in April, which is dash inconvenient. You see, housing here in Aberdazzle is extortionate. Honestly. On par with London. Aberdazzle is NOT LONDON. And in mid-April, there's nowhere to move. If it could wait until the end of May when the plague of undergraduates lifts, then maybe something might be had, but April? I shudder to think. Additionally, it's not just me I have to worry about, as there is the Flatmate. It's no longer DangerMuffin, she's moved on down to the Kingdom of Fife where she is making her own way in the postgraduate-dom in St. Andrews. No, the new girl took the room in September last with the understanding that she'd have it for a year... oops. She didn't sign a contract or anything, but that was the understanding. I haven't mentioned anything to her yet so as not to borrow trouble, but I don't have a superbly positive feeling about this.
Not that I do about most things, though. It's a happy thought.
I'll backdate the entries regarding Teitur and Lil' Jimmie Reed, which were both amazing. I promise to be better about this!
