Hey everyone:
Hey All,
Apart from buying a shipload of fruit on Friday, I haven't really bought much food over the past few days. I still have some apples, and some of those weird pear/apple hybrids, but didn't have any bread. So I was reduced to licking vegemite off a knife.
Anyways, I bought some bread today. Earthshattering.
Also today:
Signed a piece of paper at the Jobcentre. Told the bloke about the jobs I had applied for this week, was hit by tsunami of apathy.
No matter. Tomorrow I go to get at National Insurance Number.
I know that I keep mentioning it, but it is a pretty important thing.
Yesterday I received a P45 Form from Diamond Resourcing. I don't know whether that is them saying: "You're Off the Books, Fucker!", or whether it is them saying "Oh Shit, we should have sent him one months ago", or what the story is.
But it is nice to have it in my hand, because according to the information printed on there, I paid over three hundred pounds in tax in the second half of last year, and if I fill out a tax return I might actually be able to get some of that back.
Of course, I'll have to check under my bed and everywhere else to make sure that there are no other payslips lying around, but it is a start.
*SIGH* I feel like a high function Autistic sometimes. Intelligent, but utterly ill-equiped to deal with the real world.
[Tangent]
After a whole winter devoid of my usual seasonally driven dermotological torments, the skin on the back of my right hand is dry, just this side of cracked and bleeding. The skin on my left side is actually okay. Figure that one out. Norweigian Hand Goo Time!
[/Tangent]
Back at the ranch: After my Jobcentre Appt I headed to Stratford to pay my rent, then I hit the Stratford Library, on a whim, to renew the books that I had out.
The Iain M Banks book, Feersum Endjinn, is pretty densely written, plus it lapses into this post-modern, phonetic language whenever the story switches around to one particular character becoming the protagonist. The reason for this is explained in the story, but it does make it a right motherfucker to read.
While the Robin Hobb book I've still got out I can read pretty quickly, but there's just a lot of it (as Robin Hobb, she writes fat novels and only writes in Trilogies).
After sorting the books, I checked my mail on one of the PCs and the looked about the library for interesting books. I got out two books about writing, two about music and a Trade Paperback where someone had re-imagined Superman as growing up in the Soviet Union rather than in America. Should be good fun.
A quick sweep back through the Stratford mall, bought some grapes and then back to Leytonstone.
Tonight I have to buy some essential stuff. But for the time being, I have fruit and bread.
Over and out.
J
Apart from buying a shipload of fruit on Friday, I haven't really bought much food over the past few days. I still have some apples, and some of those weird pear/apple hybrids, but didn't have any bread. So I was reduced to licking vegemite off a knife.
Anyways, I bought some bread today. Earthshattering.
Also today:
Signed a piece of paper at the Jobcentre. Told the bloke about the jobs I had applied for this week, was hit by tsunami of apathy.
No matter. Tomorrow I go to get at National Insurance Number.
I know that I keep mentioning it, but it is a pretty important thing.
Yesterday I received a P45 Form from Diamond Resourcing. I don't know whether that is them saying: "You're Off the Books, Fucker!", or whether it is them saying "Oh Shit, we should have sent him one months ago", or what the story is.
But it is nice to have it in my hand, because according to the information printed on there, I paid over three hundred pounds in tax in the second half of last year, and if I fill out a tax return I might actually be able to get some of that back.
Of course, I'll have to check under my bed and everywhere else to make sure that there are no other payslips lying around, but it is a start.
*SIGH* I feel like a high function Autistic sometimes. Intelligent, but utterly ill-equiped to deal with the real world.
[Tangent]
After a whole winter devoid of my usual seasonally driven dermotological torments, the skin on the back of my right hand is dry, just this side of cracked and bleeding. The skin on my left side is actually okay. Figure that one out. Norweigian Hand Goo Time!
[/Tangent]
Back at the ranch: After my Jobcentre Appt I headed to Stratford to pay my rent, then I hit the Stratford Library, on a whim, to renew the books that I had out.
The Iain M Banks book, Feersum Endjinn, is pretty densely written, plus it lapses into this post-modern, phonetic language whenever the story switches around to one particular character becoming the protagonist. The reason for this is explained in the story, but it does make it a right motherfucker to read.
While the Robin Hobb book I've still got out I can read pretty quickly, but there's just a lot of it (as Robin Hobb, she writes fat novels and only writes in Trilogies).
After sorting the books, I checked my mail on one of the PCs and the looked about the library for interesting books. I got out two books about writing, two about music and a Trade Paperback where someone had re-imagined Superman as growing up in the Soviet Union rather than in America. Should be good fun.
A quick sweep back through the Stratford mall, bought some grapes and then back to Leytonstone.
Tonight I have to buy some essential stuff. But for the time being, I have fruit and bread.
Over and out.
J
posted by the.exile at 7:54 pm
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