Jobs, studies, squats and a baby

Time for some whining. Again.

I just couldn't help thinking about one of the unwritten rules in Santa Mondega (apparently, no matter what happens in my life, there's a connection either to The Book With No Name or to South Park. It all comes down to these two. And shoes.) which states that no one can be happy for a long time. I'm the living proof. Maybe I should go live in Santa Mondega and get it over with.

One of the reasons why I was very happy about going to Warsaw was getting a job there, and not just any job, but one that really made me enthusiastic about having an office, a schedule and waking up early in the morning, basically the three things I hate most in life. So there I was, happy as can be about finally becoming part of the system. The system will have to wait and so will I, as the job is temporarily unavailable. The other bright side was doing an MA at my beloved University of Warsaw. Having intensively studied their webpage, I figured out I can choose between Classic Philology, Linguistics and Slavic Studies. I wanted Polish Philology. In the meantime, although I have no idea what I'll be studying next year, I have to go home, pass my exams and present my paper. Which is still far from having a finite form. Not to mention I didn't learn a thing. And even that would be ok - there's lots of people who have no job prospects, no MA and still manage to live happily ever after. Apparently, starting July I'll also be homeless. Mostly because when giving me this scholarship, the Ministry of Education didn't take into account the fact that the academic year only lasts 9 months, and so I'm stuck in Kato for 10 months because I signed a contract. Since my akademik is closed during summer, and so is another akademik in Ligota, I only have two options left: see if there's any chance to move to the third akademik, or go live in a squat. In Wroclaw, as we have no squats in Kato. I couldn't talk to the director of the third akademik today, because the door was locked. No big surprises there, but when I asked the lady in the reception when is the director to be found, she said she didn't know. I asked if there was any kind of programme, she said she didn't know. If there's anyone else I could talk to about this issue, she didn't know. And the fact that she was so utterly unwilling to help was not what annoyed me most. It was her condescending smile, telling me straightforward that she does know, but she's just not in the mood to give me any kind of hint. So I waited a while, went back to see if the door had miraculously unlocked in the meantime, smoked, waited, erased half of  the messages in my phone, smoked and in the end left. My only consolation is that the reception lady weighs at least 100 kg, she looks older than she probably is, her hair - better yet, what's left of it - is a hopeless mess and she's obliged to wear a hideous blue uniform. Who cares about all the above mentioned crap? At least I still have my clothes and my shoes to hang on to. Yesterday, while unwrapping the present from my parents, my flatmate asked me what exactly am I going to do with all the shoes when I have to move away. I don't know, and this is indeed a problem. I'll have to come up with a solution to this one even before I find a job, an interesting MA and a place to live.

The fact that I'm growing older and in a few days I'll have to switch to new lines of cosmetics, designed for people in my new age group, isn't helping either. As to slow down the ageing process, but also in order to fight the effects of pollution, smoking, stress and to prevent all sorts of diseases which I don't have but I might, one day, I started drinking chlorophyll. Luckily, my parents are insane enough as to have provided half a liter which will keep me up and running in the following months.

The good news is the tent is having a baby. A brand new tent will be installed in our back yard really soon. Of course, the old ones stays right where it is.