An embarrassment of organ sales
With the exception of Graham - the local pro-plus pusher - it is far too late for anyone to be up, thus, this is a speed-typed one - quite without thought.
Been in the big city yesterday afternoon and for a biggish chunk of today: work-related: reading drafts of a couple of chapters, and generally refamiliarising myself with the library and seeing what key words have begun to dominate a particular strand of literature since I last checked - far too long ago. Also made a tentative agreement with PhDist Catherine as to how we will approach a tiny piece of paid work that we have spread across the year - fair to say that enthusiasms are low - in a loveyish manner I felt like bemoaning "but what is my motivation?". "Money", "the experience", "the 'greater good'" and "so that I'll not have reason to chop your bollocks off for saying that you would do this" would all have been reasonable responses. The people who this work would be for do not enthuse me - religious, monied and from a very small gene pool me suspects. And on the social side of things: collected small book case from and had lunch (Weds) with old pal Gay Franglais - a sound chap. Tried the house of Scottish Dave, however, he wasn't around. Texted him to see if he was ok, he replied to say that he was at his university (hasn't left yet then) and was thinking about coming over to Barton tomorrow - that'd be high adventure in that boy's world - wrote Wexford with a most uncharitable tone.
Perhaps most soap operatically of all, and very much deserving a paragraph of its own, in doing work talk with Catherine (see above), she enquired as to how things were financially - she knows things are 'balancing on a slippery knife edge'. I gave an honest general impression, she then sprung a rather shocking offer on me: "I'll loan you £100 per month if that would help with your repayments" (it would). She can afford to - her's is a very different moneyscape. I haven't accepted the offer (yet?) as I can hold out for a while longer. If need be I'll give her the requested two or three weeks notice and eat any last vestige of pride or self-esteem. I think humbled and embarrassed are how I feel when such kindness is extended towards me. Maybe I could start selling shares in myself - I reckon £100 alone would be enough to get a left leg at today's bargain basement prices. Sell my organs? Hmmmm...
Had lunch with Emma yesterday (Tues) - she looked well and seemed to be glowing of cheek - what price a happy family? That would be just far too yuk. I found myself to be a little irritable - probably at the thought of happy home life - when all had seemed to have the potential for going so swimmingly pear-shaped in a "come to Shane" kind of way. Have put her on a mental back-burner for now - I don't think it's sound or sensible to appear too interested whilst she's of the nuclear family formation.
Having further done my bit for blog-clogging the superhighway, I bid you (a) good night, (b) good and (c) you soon. What?
Been in the big city yesterday afternoon and for a biggish chunk of today: work-related: reading drafts of a couple of chapters, and generally refamiliarising myself with the library and seeing what key words have begun to dominate a particular strand of literature since I last checked - far too long ago. Also made a tentative agreement with PhDist Catherine as to how we will approach a tiny piece of paid work that we have spread across the year - fair to say that enthusiasms are low - in a loveyish manner I felt like bemoaning "but what is my motivation?". "Money", "the experience", "the 'greater good'" and "so that I'll not have reason to chop your bollocks off for saying that you would do this" would all have been reasonable responses. The people who this work would be for do not enthuse me - religious, monied and from a very small gene pool me suspects. And on the social side of things: collected small book case from and had lunch (Weds) with old pal Gay Franglais - a sound chap. Tried the house of Scottish Dave, however, he wasn't around. Texted him to see if he was ok, he replied to say that he was at his university (hasn't left yet then) and was thinking about coming over to Barton tomorrow - that'd be high adventure in that boy's world - wrote Wexford with a most uncharitable tone.
Perhaps most soap operatically of all, and very much deserving a paragraph of its own, in doing work talk with Catherine (see above), she enquired as to how things were financially - she knows things are 'balancing on a slippery knife edge'. I gave an honest general impression, she then sprung a rather shocking offer on me: "I'll loan you £100 per month if that would help with your repayments" (it would). She can afford to - her's is a very different moneyscape. I haven't accepted the offer (yet?) as I can hold out for a while longer. If need be I'll give her the requested two or three weeks notice and eat any last vestige of pride or self-esteem. I think humbled and embarrassed are how I feel when such kindness is extended towards me. Maybe I could start selling shares in myself - I reckon £100 alone would be enough to get a left leg at today's bargain basement prices. Sell my organs? Hmmmm...
Had lunch with Emma yesterday (Tues) - she looked well and seemed to be glowing of cheek - what price a happy family? That would be just far too yuk. I found myself to be a little irritable - probably at the thought of happy home life - when all had seemed to have the potential for going so swimmingly pear-shaped in a "come to Shane" kind of way. Have put her on a mental back-burner for now - I don't think it's sound or sensible to appear too interested whilst she's of the nuclear family formation.
Having further done my bit for blog-clogging the superhighway, I bid you (a) good night, (b) good and (c) you soon. What?
posted by Shane @ 1:04 am
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