24/09/2010

A friend mine – probably the only one I made during my time at uni – called me all the way from her holiday in the Mediterranean to tell me how happy she was when she received her degree certificate last week. It made her feel like she had accomplished the most important thing in her life, she said. Did I feel that excitement of having accomplished something? Like really accomplished something? Yes, I told her. It’s a great feeling.

Of course I lied. There was no euphoric mood from me at any time last week because I did not receive my degree certificate. I owe the university £1500, and I won’t be getting that precious paper until I pay up. The phone call made me think, if only briefly, of  my dad. I really needed him to help me with this payment but he let me down. He  prefered instead to spend his summer days at home doing nothing. Let’s just say that this added to the amount of resentment that I already have for him. I don’t like to dwell on it much anyway, and thankfully, the university sent me a transcript so that will do for the time being,  incase  I need to show any proof of my grades. The plan is to pay in installments and be done by the end of December.

Fingers crossed.

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16/07/2010

The company that gave  me an interview three weeks ago called me again this morning. Apparently they might take me on a temporary basis. I didn’t see this coming but you never know with jobs these days. I’m waiting for their email with all the details on Monday and hopefully I’ll have something to occupy me by the end of the week. Truth be told I was growing very weary and just about stopped looking for jobs last week. Not to mention how angry I am at my father at the moment. He quit his job two weeks ago. I fail to understand the kind of man who quits his job when his family really, and I mean desperately needs him. I’ve watched my mother slaving herself to keep us afloat and all my dad wants to do is sit at home and ‘rest’. He says he can’t cope. Who can?  Times are tough. I can’t cope either  but I’m out there looking for something. It’s not fair. I sat up in bed last night thinking about the situation and all I could think was of how  much  I resent my father and I won’t even lie I am very bitter , but you know what through all this I’ve learnt a very important lesson: Never to put up with a man like my father. In fact, I do not want a husband like my father in my life. I don’t know how my mum does it. I really don’t.

06/07/2010

I moved in with my parents last thursday. I feel restricted but my relationship with my mother is at it’s best and we talk about issues our family is going through more openly now. My dad on the other hand is a disappointment, but that’s another post. My routine since last week has been in this order:

Wake up, have breakfast, search and apply for jobs, go for a walk or a cheeky bask in the park, then come back home.

Well, it was until today.

I needed to post some documents and get a repeat prescription in town, so I left the house around noon, went to the library to print the documents because our printer is out of ink. I got to the library only to  realise I had forgotten my USB stick at home. Feeling extremely annoyed at myself for a wasted library session, I walked back home where I found the USB and decided to have a few minutes break before going back to the library. About half an hour later I went to the library, printed everything off and posted the documents. Having not spent a lot of time in this town, I didn’t know  where the local surgery was, so I went off looking. I had looked at google maps the night before so I had a specific road in mind and was following it in the hope of finding the surgery. After walking along the  road for a long time and looking around confused I decided to make my way back to the high street. At a slightly hilly corner next to a car park, I saw this man hurriedly walking towards my direction. I didn’t give him a thought. He was simply  a normal guy going about his business like I was. Then I saw that he slowed down as he got near  me. I hesitated but it turned out that  he wanted directions to the train station. I knew where it was so I pointed towards its direction and explained.  As I finished explaining and made to continue walking towards the high street he  said, nonchalantly:

“You are very beautiful. How old are you?”

That caught me off guard so  I smiled and told him. He continued.

“Do you live here?”

I told him I lived near  there  after  which he asked for how long and I went on to explain that I had just graduated from uni and moved in with my parents. At this point we were walking together on the direction that he came from. I guess he didn’t need the train station anymore. We got to the town centre where he asked me if I was free for drinks. I told him I would be after finding  the surgery and getting  my prescription first. He offered to drive me there adding that he had a satnav in his car. I thought why not. In the car we talked about stuff. The getting to know each other kind of stuff. Turns out he lives around too and works half an hour away for Barclays. Not bad I thought. And just like I suspected he said, “You are very petite.”

Petite…well, if I got a penny every time a   man told me that…e.t.c  It’s different this time though. I’ve learnt  to love myself. I’m better than say..last year, so it doesn’t matter. It’s my body I can’t change it.

We found the surgery and then he came back after a few minutes to pick me up again for a drink, I guess after remembering his train station business . He drove to a little pub by a hill I’d never seen before. We sat in the sun, talked more about his work, my job hunting process and my very long nails which he asked me to scratch his arm lightly because he said they looked beautiful and wanted to feel them. Half an hour later he dropped me in town and went his way. We are meeting again tomorrow afternoon for more drinks and a little sight-seeing in a beautiful park not too far away from the town centre as he put it.

We’ll  see what Barclays Boy has to offer.

03/07/2010

Last night I went to bed thinking…

Dear God, I know that I don’t talk to you anymore. I’m not even sure of our relationship, if any, but I really need you to answer my prayers. For once. Just for once.

23/06/2010

I learnt yesterday that I got a 2:1 for my degree. Not bad for a struggling girl like me. I know though, that I’m first class material academically. I don’t mean to  sound up my arse or anything but I was a straight A student before uni. Before all the bullshit. I look at all the guys in my course and I can’t see anyone who’d have put up with what I had to put up with. None of them. They would have dropped out without question because it’s tough beyond words.