Success (and failure)
So, today I went and had a go at the W.H.Smiths people because they failed me in the paper department. I'm sorry, but their 70GSM wide-ruled 100-sheet refil pads are cruddy in the extreme. One: the paper is rough and scratchy on my fountain pen. Two: the glue they use to hold the pages in is too damn good, which resulted in me attempted to rip my first page of notes out during my second lecture yesterday and failing utterly, then trying to rip out a second page and having the corners rip off completely, then trying to rip a third page out and having about seventeen come out in a big damn chunk.
I was not impressed, so I took it back and told them. The guy wasn't for giving me my money back; he told me that they're not allowed to take used goods back. But I was firm. "But it's rubbish!" I said. "I can't get the pages to rip out!"
So he gave me a refund. Bwahaha. So I went around the corner to Rymans and got 320 sheets of Rymans paper (wide-ruled, 70GSM, non-scratchety, and with pages that rip out with ease) for much less moneys. :P Win-win situation, yes?
The Essay-that-counts-towards-1/12th-of-this-year's-overall-mark is not going well. Like the Hedgehog, I can never be buggered at all. *sigh* Similar story with the reading I'm supposed to be doing for my tutorials next week. Ngh. I just feel so ... blasé about everything at the moment. I think it's because I'm still a bit ill. (Sore throat, which is making me cough all the time.)
Happier tidings: I'm going home in a week! This time next week, I most likely will be home. I'm looking forward to it; I'm fed up of cooking for myself, and having to walk everywhere. And of erratic heating that swings wildly between 'too damned hot' and 'too damned cold'.
... I think I might watch Red Dwarf. *has found it online, woohoo!* My Rimmer obsession is returning. (I don't know why I love that man so much. He's pedantic, irritating, organised, rubbish with women, back-stabbing, cowardly - and he's not loyal or charming or even particularly handsome. And yet ... <3 God, I'm strange ...)
EDIT: Nargh! My throat! When I breathe/swallow/talk/try to do anything, it feels like some bastard is sandpapering it. *emoface* Of course, this could have something to do with the hour-long phonecall I just had with my 'rents. (This is not a bad thing, except in respect of my throat; I actually love talking to my mum and dad.) *goes to make tea, in the hopes that it'll be soothing somehow*
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I was not impressed, so I took it back and told them. The guy wasn't for giving me my money back; he told me that they're not allowed to take used goods back. But I was firm. "But it's rubbish!" I said. "I can't get the pages to rip out!"
So he gave me a refund. Bwahaha. So I went around the corner to Rymans and got 320 sheets of Rymans paper (wide-ruled, 70GSM, non-scratchety, and with pages that rip out with ease) for much less moneys. :P Win-win situation, yes?
The Essay-that-counts-towards-1/12th-of-this-year's-overall-mark is not going well. Like the Hedgehog, I can never be buggered at all. *sigh* Similar story with the reading I'm supposed to be doing for my tutorials next week. Ngh. I just feel so ... blasé about everything at the moment. I think it's because I'm still a bit ill. (Sore throat, which is making me cough all the time.)
Happier tidings: I'm going home in a week! This time next week, I most likely will be home. I'm looking forward to it; I'm fed up of cooking for myself, and having to walk everywhere. And of erratic heating that swings wildly between 'too damned hot' and 'too damned cold'.
... I think I might watch Red Dwarf. *has found it online, woohoo!* My Rimmer obsession is returning. (I don't know why I love that man so much. He's pedantic, irritating, organised, rubbish with women, back-stabbing, cowardly - and he's not loyal or charming or even particularly handsome. And yet ... <3 God, I'm strange ...)
EDIT: Nargh! My throat! When I breathe/swallow/talk/try to do anything, it feels like some bastard is sandpapering it. *emoface* Of course, this could have something to do with the hour-long phonecall I just had with my 'rents. (This is not a bad thing, except in respect of my throat; I actually love talking to my mum and dad.) *goes to make tea, in the hopes that it'll be soothing somehow*
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