Grumble, grumble, yay!, meh?

Yesterday, as usual, I checked The Onion for any new, rib-tickling news. The headline for the day was "It Only Tuesday", which made me both grin and sigh. Indeed, this week has been a-draggin'. As a result of being more tired at the end of the weekend than when the weekend began, I've been making an effort to do pretty much nothing outside of work, eat, sleep, and watch Heroes (we have internet! huzzah!). Why does this make the time go so slowly? Why am I feeling so apathetic? Why, though I am finally marginally rested, does it still take considerable effort to peel myself out of bed and convince myself to cycle into work in the morning?

I'm guessing the answer to a lot of these questions lies in the fact that I'm getting really tired of my job. I've never loved my job, but I've never hated it either, and though "hate" is far too strong a word for the strong disgruntlement I'm feeling these days, my feelings definitely lie on the exasperated dislike end of the spectrum. The commute doesn't help. The fact that my workday lasts well over ten hours as a result of 2.5 hrs cycling time makes the days a little more draining, to be sure.

The good news is school is starting up again next week, which means I'll only be working 20hrs/wk here henceforward. The bad news is, I'm a teensy bit concerned that with the aforementioned 2.5hrs of cycling on a daily basis, plus work, plus school, I'm going to burn myself out in record time. Thing is, I can't afford to quit my job. Like, really can't afford. I owe LISPA £4,025 for this year's tuition, my monthly rent is £260 (which is cheap! but still), and London is damn expensive, so factor in at least another £200 a month for bills, food, transport, and incidentals - possibly more. With my £700-per-month-after-taxes paychecks, I'm hoping I can squeak by, but keep in mind I also need to quit my job by fourth term when we'll be in rehearsals 12hrs a day and I won't have time or energy for anything else. Bleagh. Whatever, it'll work out. I don't wanna think about it anymore.

Other things I don't want to think about: the fact that I still don't have my visa for next year. I sent in the application in late September, and last week got a letter from them saying they needed more documentation. Which was fine - I had all the papers they needed - BUT they had sent the letter to me on the 4th (my birthday, the day the Royal Mail oh so conveniently decided to go on strike for a week), and I didn't receive it til the 12th. A Friday. Which meant I didn't get it back in the mail to them til the 15th. 16 days before my current visa expires. I'm not thinking about it, I'm just letting it go out into the ether, as it is, after all, beyond my control at this point whether they approve my leave to remain at all/in time or not. But you can see how it makes me a little nervous. A lot nervous. If I were to be thinking about it. Which I'm not.

And since we're talking about frustrations anyway, how about another? I was biking home from work last night, when I heard funny creaking noises coming from my dear Bianca (told you I'd named her). Luckily I knew a cycle shop more or less on my way home, so I stopped by and dropped her off for a look-over. After coming back after half an hour or so, I was informed by the very kind gentleman mechanic that my bottom bracket was loose. (What is it about me and bikes with f-ed up bottom brackets?!) Normally, this wouldn't be a big deal, but it turns out that my bike is an old model whose bottom bracket requires loads of labour to tighten or replace, and they don't even have a replacement at that bike shop anyway. Labour to tighten he approximated at about £70-£80 - almost as much as I paid for the bike to start out with. Luckily, he said it's still safe and rideable for the time being - he's just not sure how much longer she'll last.

Now, as frustrating as this news was, it wasn't earth-shattering. I've only had this bike for a month, but I've ridden it nearly every day for that month, often for upwards of 20 miles, and it was used to begin with. My potential saving grace was the fact that when I bought Bianca, I was assured I could get a month's free servicing from the store I bought her from. When I got home, I checked the receipt: dated the 15th September. Damn.

So I'm opening the forum to you, dear readers. It looks like I'm going to have to get another bike, but here are the principal questions: new or used? and for how much? I think I can manage up to £100 - the bad news is that new bikes tend to start at £200. Do I go back to the same place? Buy one on the street for cheap, but which could potentially be a piece of shiny crap (and also, more than likely, stolen property?) Part of me is hoping that I can go back to Recycling (where I first got Bianca) and if they're not able to fix her for free or close to it, see if I can trade her in and pay £50 more or something for a much nicer bike. Because honestly, why didn't I see this coming? When you're biking well over 100miles a week, something's gonna give.

On a more pleasant note, the bike mechanic at Brick Lane Bikes was super nice and very helpful and said he'd be happy to answer any questions about bikes anytime. I'm thinking about asking him if I can be really annoying and look over his shoulder while he's fixing bikes so I can figure out how the hell they work and what to watch out for. How cool would it be to be a bike mechanic's apprentice? With all that free time I have, I mean.

Let's see, what else? Last week was actually really nice. Busy and somewhat exhausting, but nice. I managed to get together with some people very dear to my heart that I hadn't seen in awhile (namely Niamh on Wednesday and Simon on Thursday), and Friday night Carrie and I went to see Ratatouille!!!!! Which was amazing. I totally loved it. And I thought of Dad, because we usually see animated films together, and I saw it on his birthday.

Saturday morning I went to volunteer at a recruitment fair and worked at the SPW stand, talking about my experience in Uganda and sharing info. It reminded me how much I want to do something like that again. I visited some other booths as well, and got all wistful and excited about different possibilities. I might take some weekend courses in peace work. How cool would that be? Then went to meet up with Erin!!! who's back!!! Hooray!!! and had a lovely couple of hours with her before my bosses from the comedy club called and said they needed me early to set up both locations because someone had called in sick.

I then had an even worse night working than I did last week.

Luckily, it sounds like after this Saturday, they're not going to need me to work that location all my myself anymore. Thank God.

Sunday was great - a picnic out on the Hackney Marsh with friends both old and new from school, and then some long conversations with some very dear friends. The late bedtime was worth it. Oh, and I learned how to make hummous from scratch, which is always exciting.

And this week? As I mentioned, not much. It's so strange to think that next week I'll be back in class. I'm excited about it, but it doesn't seem real. Also strange is the fact that I'm really not sure what to expect; I get the sense that the work we do this year is completely different from the things we explored last time. I'm excited for the adventure, I guess, but mostly I just don't know what to expect.