all about chemistry
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Happy New Year! And this new year brings me no motivation to work and lots to blog - Hurray! I am finally moving out this weekend faaaaaaar faaaar away from the russian flatmates, about whom I would like to say one last thing unless they do something sinister AFTER I have moved: As you all are aware by now, we have a weekly cleaning rota. Despite which, the Russian Flatmate has never failed to remind me when it's my turn to clean! Anyhow, due to unforeseen circumstances there was a random change and she did the rota and CIRCLED my turn on the 25th December 2006. I can only imagine how smug she must have felt doing that - that sly smile on her face when she blutaked the rota onto the door. That airy walk back from the kitchen door to her room, I can only imagine and it makes me feel sorry...very sorry for HER! Because I have just realised that the next date to clean on that rota is 6th January and that too for the Bosnian flatmate. So either she is dumb enough to miss the 31st December in between or she is too clever so she has arranged such that she doesn't have to clean just as she is back from her holiday on the 4th January! Personally, I think it's the latter and owing to being away on my turn on the 25th December, using the same plea, I am obliged to clean am I? For record purposes, it should be noted that my new year's resolutions kick in next week:
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Agony Aunt: 20six
Oh thy 20six, I have a perplexing dilemma: As a result of all the activities relating to my Russian Flatmate, I will finally be moving out on the 6th January. Though because of a dire misunderstanding on my part, I took my notice period to be of 2 weeks and dutifully informed my screaming/shouting/*secretly heartbroken* landlady three weeks in advance about my move, only to be corrected that it was the usual four weeks. So as the norm goes, she has agreed to me finding another flatmate by that date and leave with money in my pocket. Now here enters my Bosnian flatmate's friend from Serbia, who came to live us at the beginning of November, with the plea of being homeless and a promise of finding elsewhere to live. Though, I was never told of this arrangement, on bumping into the Serbian friend one fine morning when I was leaving for work, I had told my other flatmate by the means of a not so pleasing text that since my bike had been stolen a while ago it was only polite of her to inform me that there was someone else sharing her room. And now the drama: well, it's been a month since the Serbian flatmate's been living with us for a MONTH! Day in/Day out. In fact, I am enroaching on "her" space in the fridge! Now, to be honest, this had begun to bother me recently and I had contemplated telling the landlady about this. But I persevered since I was going to leave the place anyway until yesterday when my landlady screamed down the phone reminding me of the four week notice. So I decided to find a rentee before I left and texted the Bosnian flatmate to see if her friend wanted the room. But partly innocently and partly because it was on my mind, on speaking to my landlady today who was asking for references, I asked her if it was OK if one of Bosnian flatmate's friend who has been here on a holiday takes the room. To which she resorted: Oh I have no idea this was happening. I clarified saying that she had just been on a holiday and if anything, I am only asking you it was OK since we know her and not complaining! And that I won't want to leave on a bad note with my Bosnian flatmate. To which she agreed but I am now worried that my Bosnian flatmate will have troubles and she will think I am a horrible person. More importantly, I am worried that I am horrible person. Shall I text my Bosnian flatmate about this conversation with the landlady just so she can cover her back or what else I could do to undo this harm? |
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Going for tooth extraction - wish me luck!
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Stereotypes...
...do they work? In my experience, the russians did turn out nasty, but does it apply to other nationalities too? And is that being racist? |
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One of the most bizzare
things that I want to do right now is shave my head. How relieving would it be? It would feel like such a respite! Oh boy, I soo want to shave my head, irrespective of how I would look afterwards (surely that could be forgotten as days of craziness?) but the only thing I am worried about is it's tooo cold. gah! |
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...and it was buzzing again...
...and it was buzzing again.. ...only this time it was 7.16, minutes away from my scheduled getting up time of 7.20...another 4 minutes and I should be in the shower. I have to be, only yesterday did my manager's boss sent an e-mail pointing out the lack of a version number in one of my documents. It'd been two weeks since I stepped into the office before 9.30. Go on Olivia, I told myself, do it. Do it for the sake of er...7.20!!! I grabbed the towel and rushed out of the bedroom - only to find the Russian Flatmate heading towards the shower too. Following an exchange of puzzled, sleepy smiles, I figured that she had just said that she would really quickly shower and be out in five minutes! But hold your breaths my surmising readers, for this is a shocker – I boldly (ahem!) replied “er…do you mind if I take a shower first please?...I am sorry but I really have to, I didn’t have one yesterday…sorry..I have to…sorry” To which there was a one-line answer “Sorry doesn’t really help”, turning around and stomping off. I quickly got into the shower, forgetting my bath lily…and started wetting my hair until I realised that the Russian flatmate had gotten into the toilet next door and was running the hot water at it’s speediest speed ever! So in essence, though I was in the shower I wasn't really taking one. It was choice between resigning to a life of dirt or being executed by the Russian Flatmate. I chose the latter and continued using the powerless shower to wash my hair, but owing to the lack of free flowing water, I hurried and started drying myself in less than 2 minutes, all this time anticipating the fate that awaited me outside the shower – there was none, the Russian flatmate was still enclosed in the neighbouring toilet. I went to my room and watched Gordon Brown showing his implanted beauties without explaining why I can’t have one of those on the NHS. Got dressed and waited and waited until I heard the front door roar with Russian flatmate’s anger and then I knew it was safe to dive into the quotidian world of the underground – surprisingly, no really surprisingly, there were delays! There are two kinds of people in the world: Ones who to do things and others who feel guilty. And if you can make predictions, I am the latter kind. So, gasping a breathe of freshly polluted morning air at Paddington Station, I texted her: “Hi Russian Flatmate, thanks very much for letting me shower first this morning. Sorry, if I seemed inconsiderate but I have a meeting today I had to get ready for. Really appreciate this…and thanks again.” I haven’t had any replies, so I am guessing I will have to go with the suggestion of buying her some chocolates this evening. |
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