I feel disgusted with myself. While I was away, I couldn't resist the temptation of constant snacks. We had breaks, in the morning and afternoon, and tea, juice (well, squash, anyway), and cookies were provided... Then Lunch, of course, and whatever crap was served up for dinner that night. We had a rotation for cooking, and most people were lazy and/or not very good cooks. Bleh. On top of that, Mary and I would buy auxiliary snacks. Some of these were relatively healthy, like cheese and crackers, or bread. Sometimes it was like... tarts. Lots of little tarts. I think in three weels we probably went through about six packages. Oh and there were those eclairs that ne time, and the cream filled muffins... on top of *that*, people in the village where we were working kept making us things... like cakes. and one guy had his birthday while we were there and we wound up with another, I think *four* cakes from that.
Now, I was expecting I could get away with some of this snacking (almost forgot all the chips and stuff. And sausage, which I don't even like... Plus carbohydrates from bread from daily sandwiches, and pasta, and extra bread we bought, and on it goes) because we'd be working. But to be honest, although some people had to do a lot of really hard work all the time (especially Donna, the PhD student, who had to dig a meter square test pit averaging about a meter deep, and sift it, and record everything from it, every *day*), but, well, I didn't. Or at least, I didn't feel that I was doing anything particularly strenuous. Not like the guys who were working in the paddock the first week and had to sledgehammer/pickaxe through six inches of concrete... Mary and I did geophysics, finds washing, and trowelling and stuff. Even when we were in the test-pitting crew (I think maybe two and a half days), we mostly did sifting, not shovelling and mattocking). We did do a day of back filling (putting the dirt back in the trenches.... the test pit two-step, whee!). To be fair to myself...lifting can be difficult, especially if the sieve is a bad size, or the soil is really wet and/or clumpy.
What I'm trying to get at here, is two things. First, seeing how hard some people had to work, I feel like I got handed out a lot of 'light' tasks. It should surprise no one to hear that I *loathe* being thought of as weak or incapable (or, worse *unwilling*) of doing hard work. I don't know that it was the case, but I kind of feel like it was... you know, being a girl and all. (Another note, I hate even more being proved that I am weak and incapable, but more satisfied for being allowed to try). I also feel like I pigged out like a gluttonous ... well, a gluttonous something. I *feel* fat now, and I know I'm not going to have a chance to do anything more, really. I'm going to have to sequester myself in my room to get my paper and my dissertation written. I'm not going to have time (or, really, money) for any more exercise than I get in a week normally (read: not much).
Having looked at myself in the closest thing I have to a looking glass around here (a darkened window), I can see that I've put on weight since I've been away... And this was right after we decided to have pizza for dinner.
Another thing is that I don't think that living with M&I for the next month and a bit is going to be any better for me. They tend to buy waaaaay more snack than I ever did when I shiopped for myself. And if snacks are there... well, I eat them. I eat them because I'm bored, or nervous, or hungry... It doesn't really matter. They aren't much for vegetables.
oh, and while I'm on the subject of things that are monstrously depressing, let me transcribe the body of a letter I had waiting for me when I got home, from the University Department of Finance. It's short, at least.
Dear Miss Hatch
Tuition Fees 2001/02
I regret to advise you that your cheque of $5610 (£2391.35) from CIBC National Student Centre in respect of tuition fees has been returned by your bank 'payment stopped'.
If you require any further assistance then please contact me.
This was sent out on the 30th of July, which is of course, just fucking peachy.
And what can I do about it? Nothing. Not until Monday, and that's going to be fun. Presumably it also means that my NB Bursary was never sent out, because I can't get that until I cash the federal loan... and considering that the NB loan people have the speed and intellect of an an epileptic snail with altzheimers, I may never get to graduate.
I'm so angry, but there's no constructive place to direct it, so instead I feel restless, anti-social, and depressed. I want to know who to swear at to make things better, but I know that the answer is 'no-one'.
And lately I've been felling all sad, because I'm starting to pine for home more and more now that I'm getting to return so soon (being in Lincolnshire, which is just like home, scenery wise, hasn't helped), but at the same time, I'm terribly sad to be leaving behind all the friends I've made here, and stuff.
And the only person around online tonight seems to be Max. I like Max, but I also don't feel like burdening him with the bulk of my current misery. Maybe I should just go to bed and hope for the best...
meh. Oh, Des just showed up. Maybe I can let myself be distracted into a better mood by the two of them...
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