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I have had an utterly ghastly week, and have been trying to figure out why. Possibly it's because I got back from Southport four days earlier than the rest of my housemates returned from their Christmas holidays, meaning that I had four days alone in the house of eating in my room, watching clips on YouTube, reading, avoiding work, and generally behaving like Howard Hughes.
Maybe it's because my two pet hates, sales and tourists, combined in ugly intensity this week, making Cambridge hideous to walk through. I felt like elbowing people in the head, but settled for long-suffering glares and angrily pushing my way past them, sighing loudly.
It could perhaps be pent up rage at Cambridge's lack of any kind of cafe culture. I don't see what's so difficult. When I lived in Sydney, I was within five minutes' walking distance of at least 20 cafes where I could get a decent cup of coffee, freshly-made sandwiches, salads or soup. All the cafes had large tables, free magazines and newspapers, and were places where you could go for a quick coffee on the way to work, or a leisurely lunch with the paper. Even Canberra, a town about 1/20th of the size, had four or five areas with decent cafes, three of which were within walking distance of my house.
No, I do not want Starbucks, Costa, Caffe Nero, Pret or any other ghastly chain store. No, I do not want reheated pre-made, pre-packaged sandwiches. Why is that so hard to understand?
Maybe I've finally cracked over the plague-level number of ladybirds that have taken up residence in my room. I certainly went beserk over the room's cleanliness: exasperated with waiting for our cleaner (yes, Cambridge student residences have their own cleaners) to vacuum my room (never going to happen), I wet-dusted all the surfaces, cleaned out all the rubbish and vacuumed the floor.
It could be the late nights driving me insane. I seem to be incapable of getting to sleep any earlier than 2am, and even then, I lie awake in bed for at least an hour.
But today I finally cracked completely. I thought I was supposed to be Skyping with Mum (we always Skype on Sunday mornings my time), but I knew she had guests over and we might be postponing the Skype session until Monday. I logged on to Skype. She wasn't there. No worries, we were obviously going to Skype on Monday. I stayed logged on, more out of laziness than for any other reason. A few hours later my dad called. He normally calls on Saturday mornings, my time, but he's a bit scatterbrained and tends to forget, so when I talked to him (thinking the whole time it was Sunday) he didn't seem to notice that I was talking as if he'd missed our phone time by more than a day.
Then, for some odd reason Mum logged onto Skype. I called her. This is what happened:
Me: So you were planning to Skype with me today after all.
Mum: You do realise it's Saturday, right?
Me: I thought it was Sunday.
*looks at date on computer*
Mum: ...
Me: ARRRGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
I realised I'd been thinking it was a day after what it actually was the entire week. (That is, on Friday I thought it was Saturday, on Thursday I thought it was Friday, etc.)
What the hell is wrong with me?
(In other, much cooler news, my youngest sister Nell, who is nearly 16 months old, took her first steps today. So well done her.)
Maybe it's because my two pet hates, sales and tourists, combined in ugly intensity this week, making Cambridge hideous to walk through. I felt like elbowing people in the head, but settled for long-suffering glares and angrily pushing my way past them, sighing loudly.
It could perhaps be pent up rage at Cambridge's lack of any kind of cafe culture. I don't see what's so difficult. When I lived in Sydney, I was within five minutes' walking distance of at least 20 cafes where I could get a decent cup of coffee, freshly-made sandwiches, salads or soup. All the cafes had large tables, free magazines and newspapers, and were places where you could go for a quick coffee on the way to work, or a leisurely lunch with the paper. Even Canberra, a town about 1/20th of the size, had four or five areas with decent cafes, three of which were within walking distance of my house.
No, I do not want Starbucks, Costa, Caffe Nero, Pret or any other ghastly chain store. No, I do not want reheated pre-made, pre-packaged sandwiches. Why is that so hard to understand?
Maybe I've finally cracked over the plague-level number of ladybirds that have taken up residence in my room. I certainly went beserk over the room's cleanliness: exasperated with waiting for our cleaner (yes, Cambridge student residences have their own cleaners) to vacuum my room (never going to happen), I wet-dusted all the surfaces, cleaned out all the rubbish and vacuumed the floor.
It could be the late nights driving me insane. I seem to be incapable of getting to sleep any earlier than 2am, and even then, I lie awake in bed for at least an hour.
But today I finally cracked completely. I thought I was supposed to be Skyping with Mum (we always Skype on Sunday mornings my time), but I knew she had guests over and we might be postponing the Skype session until Monday. I logged on to Skype. She wasn't there. No worries, we were obviously going to Skype on Monday. I stayed logged on, more out of laziness than for any other reason. A few hours later my dad called. He normally calls on Saturday mornings, my time, but he's a bit scatterbrained and tends to forget, so when I talked to him (thinking the whole time it was Sunday) he didn't seem to notice that I was talking as if he'd missed our phone time by more than a day.
Then, for some odd reason Mum logged onto Skype. I called her. This is what happened:
Me: So you were planning to Skype with me today after all.
Mum: You do realise it's Saturday, right?
Me: I thought it was Sunday.
*looks at date on computer*
Mum: ...
Me: ARRRGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
I realised I'd been thinking it was a day after what it actually was the entire week. (That is, on Friday I thought it was Saturday, on Thursday I thought it was Friday, etc.)
What the hell is wrong with me?
(In other, much cooler news, my youngest sister Nell, who is nearly 16 months old, took her first steps today. So well done her.)
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