Well, the bin-men came and I managed to get out early enough to take out the trash can. I am all out of everything, as I couldn't bring myself to go begging (busking) last market day. Even if I did, some foreigner (well, Scotch) banjoist has claimed the spot, so I must get up extra early, just for the privilege of being able to beg on damp cement. The other guy plays very loud and slightly out of tune. To be fair, he can actually carry a tune, but with no finesse or any ornamentation. I asked him last week if we could please share the space, if only for an hour, just so I could get some food. He said no. So, I played very loudly right next to him (he doesn't sing). Bastard. Like most "musicians", I could play along with the tunes he played, but he could not adapt to mine. Such is life.
I should resign myself to eating out of the dustbin again (id est: going back to the kitchen) but I would rather perish from malnutrition than face that hell-hole again. Serious. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind the graft, it's just that I don't like being spoken down to vulgarly by bumpkins with large moles, webbed feet and eyes too close together. (Carnies, circus folk, small hands: you know).
So, I am in debt, I have rent to pay, I am unable to make a living, the only job I have is exploitative (the wishy-washy Red left bunny-hugger sociologist cafe) where they pay me near FA. I just don't know what the hell to do. I mean, I think the best option is to quit smoking, take up jogging, and pretend it's all not happening.
In other news, I heard another student has been permitted to enter the Alec Kassmann prize for best essay for Classical Studies. I was hesitant to pillage parts of that essay for my re-submission EMA, but seeing as how it is unlikely that I will even be able to be permitted to write an essay for no purpose other than a love of the subject, it seems that I am able to pillage and self-plagiarize to my hearts content (from that essay, which is not submitted). Avienus is on the cards.
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