Problems? Solutions.

Dear Diary,

I have been anticipating the arrival of the printer ink (seemingly most printers now cannot print black and white without having a colour cartridge, because this is the technological Dark Age - it's all about making money, not something which works well). I thought of perhaps ordering it from Amazon, but the store said they could deliver it a day earlier. Then, the store (which shall remain nameless), in all their infinite wisdom, delivered it - not to my address, but to a local shop which is quite far away (I live in the middle of nowhere). So, instead of having it arrive tomorrow, as it would have done via Amazon (at half the delivery cost...) I have to take little Ronulus walkies to go and get it. This has set back my translation by yet another day (it is already one day past the deadline already). Great.

Fortunately, Martyn at the Classics Bookshop is a lot more prompt. My copies of Plato's Statesman, Aristotle's Politics (only in translation - both for my law degree), and Thompsons' Handbook of Greek and Latin Palaeography (for work) all arrived promptly this morning. So that's something which is good. (I actually own digital copies of these works, but I just prefer real books).

They've been pushing me at work to move into a flat with another member of staff. I refused, because this person moves a lot (seemingly), and once he leaves, I will be made homeless again, without the means of being able to afford a deposit somewhere. Besides, a double whack increase in rent is the last thing I need, now I have to fork out £300 a month for the 'privilege' of being put through arduous tests, assignments and exams at university studying law - for the next four years: as though 12 years studying were not enough already! (The State could make up the difference, but my philosophy has always been to take as little as possible from the State: I contribute to the country. I am not a parasite). Souhir, does need somewhere. I offered it to her, but I doubt she's going to stick around here for long. She is moving back to Italy in six months. Why? Because instead of subsisting in Dark Age Britain, wiping old people's backsides, in Italy she can actually use her master's degree (unlike here, where she is just a slave). Here, what do you do with your master's degree? Work in McDonald's or a care home. These are the Dark Ages, whichever way you cut it.