I've had some wine so the actual decibel of my whine has gone down. Look at me, ma, I'm self soothing!
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| My friends have come to play. |
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| Not self-medicating with wine in this photo...just felt it looked appropriate within the context of the narrative. "WINE!"...kinda how I feel about coffee too. |
Things have gotten quite tricky on the grad school front. Which is....awesome. Cause this is just going to make me feel like actually being in grad school is a freaking breeze. Ahh, bless.
Funny thing about loans and visa's and grad school. It's all one big gigantic balancing act. Let me lay it down for ya from the beginning.
-Grad school accepted me, hooray! I'm moving back to my homeland...I mean where my heart is....home is where the heart is, so that kind of makes England my homeland..kind of. I don't know...something like that. But YAY!
-No grad school till I can make the first payment of $6,000. I am poor. Hahahaha. But okay. *Gulp wine. Fortify oneself*
-Apply for loan, loan company says "HELLYES, we'd like to help you along your path to debt. Let us give you money. We just need your school to tell us when."
-School accidentally puts down for the money to be released a month into school....basically making it impossible for me to put down my first payment before I start...which technically means, I ain't going.
-School fixes it right quick when I mention that I can't go if I don't get that loan. Ergo, they don't get awesome American dollars.
-Loan money comes in just a little over 1 week ago to the school.
-I need my CAS (confirmation of acceptance to study) paper from the school now that they have the loan money. I need that CAS paper to be able to apply for my visa. My visa that allows me to be in that country to study for a year.
-I am 10 days away from flying to London and I don't have my CAS. I don't have my visa. I don't have anywhere to live because the housing I found a week ago fell through due to unforeseen conditions.
-Additionally, I feel fat.
-And, I can't run due to plantar faciitis. This makes me want to punch people. Especially running bloggers because they're having so much fun...running...and blogging. Shut it, twinkle toes. Nobody wants to hear about your fabulous running adventures. (No wait, I do. I'm not serious. I love hearing about it. I want to weep in envy!)
I just really felt the need to add those last two on, just cause.
Where's my wine?
So yes, grad school...hard. Not even there yet. And it's getting a little rough having everyone keep asking me "are you so excited?" "Are you, like, totally freaking out?" "I mean, this is like your dream. How pumped are you?"
*Throws wine glass to the floor* (Actually that's just for dramatic effect, cause seriously.....I am poor and we don't waste that shit.)
NO. Currently I am not excited, thrilled, or peeing my pants with glee. I wish I was...all those things...except maybe not the pee. I feel slightly overwhelmed by the fact that I have so much to worry about. And I've officially stopped voicing those worries out loud (aren't you lucky to be reading this! Go on, feel pleased) because, as much as I love everyone who says this to me, if I hear one more person say "oh don't worry, it'll all work out" I will PUNCH you in your delicate bits. Stop poo-pooing my stress okay? I know it's going to work out, because I'm bloody well going to make it work out. At this point, there is no way possible that I will be deterred from going over to London for grad school. (*Knock on wood*)
But when people say this in a "hush now little one" *hypothetical pat on head* kind of way, makes my worry, my fears seem childish and insignificant.
And let me tell you, this chocolate and wine habit I am currently cultivating really demonstrates that my emotions are not insignificant. Either join me in drink, or commiserate and tell me your tale of woe. Otherwise...stfu. I say that politely, with non-aggression, and a slight curtsy.
*End Rant*
In good news...my dog has learned a new game. It's called "I'm Mad At You. Hide the Poo."
Essentially, what happened was...my sister and I went away to DC for a long weekend. We did not go to work on Thursday and Friday because of this long weekend road trip, and ergo, Charlie did not get to go to his favorite place ever--CarRideAndThenToWORK. Since we've taken him to the office every day with us (perk of working for our Dad, holler), and he gets treats constantly from all the delivery people, it's like Disney World for him. So we denied him Disney World for two days.
What he does, in retaliation, is poops in my upstairs living room (I live in a kind of in-law apartment attachment of the house. It keeps me and my parents from killing each other.) But he's not like a normal dog, oh no. He's Catholic Guilt Charlie. He does wrong, and feels HORRENDOUS about it. If he could whip himself, he would. So he eats the poop. Like ya do. He eats the poop cause it was his favorite thing to do as a puppy. He eats the poop out of guilt, but at the same time still does it out of retaliation, like a good Catholic. He likes to watch in glee as we run around the small space trying to figure out where the fuck he pooped.
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| "Poo? What poo? I no poo. If there no poo, there no problem." |
So my living room space smells like poop. My Dad tried cleaning up the suspect spots...but we can't be sure. Cause the damn dog ate the evidence.
YAY. WINE.
I want to add on to this whole shenanigan piece that I have not been working out as much as usual, so that makes me a little bit crazy. Apologies. But you can only blame yourself if you've not been entertained by my narrative, cause you've gone on reading it this far. Well done you.
I've resorted to de-stressing through food. I'm telling you right now, watch out for Amanda over at Rhymes & Ribbons . I've been trying out a few of her recipes and they will wash your cares away in a nice creamy vodka sauce. Pasta alla Vodka and I have been making friends...a lot recently.
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| That eye is supposed to be bigger than the other. Allergies. Not wine. Seriously. |
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| Most amazing thing ever. I've had it twice in two weeks. |
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| Recipe has been placed on fridge for easy viewing. When you're feeling low, eat your carbs. God said that. |
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| Better than booze in drowning ones sorrows. Oh and look! I now have more cushion....for sitting. Lovely. |
Right. I'm off now to find my dignity somewhere. (Well if you read the last post, Getting Physical: Dominating the Swim Category you'll gather that I don't actually have any...it's there. I swear.)
Cheers, and next time, less complaining...but probably the same amount of wine....
Lindsay xx
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