LibrarySex/PublicToiletSounds

Obviously I have reached the pinnacle of my career when among my many jobs of the day I find myself cleaning public keyboards with foam and tissue paper, and stacking cardboard boxes neatly under a table, only for them all to be thrown out the next day, and should be grateful to have reached such dizzy heights. However, I'm rather jealous that I'm stuck doing such mundane - but obviously dazzlingly significant - work while some people are nobbling each other in the disabled toilets. I mean, is it fair?

Sassy got the shock of her life today when she discovered two students 'at it' in the loos. Her verdict: nice bum on the bloke, good wax job on the girl. They certainly weren't shy.

Ew.

The Swine!

Oh My God. My tutor is actually abandoning me and has quit his job. I'm being palmed off on somebody else with as little ceremony as an email suggesting I get in touch with his replacement.

Given up hope, do you think? The bugger advised me all wrong (he does not specialise in the field I'm examining, and therefore has tried to lead me toward other subjects, namely sexuality, despite the fact I'm interested in postcolonialism), and now he's going to let some other dude clear up the mess!

The nerve of it!

I'm planning on asking if there's any way I can go part time at work this week, but I had an opportunity to do just that today and bottled out because, in case you've forgotten, my boss hates my guts. I so need to but I really think that they'll say no. But I can't keep hanging around, waiting for a part time job to open up and fooling myself that I'll "make time" for my dissertation in the meantime. Because there's just too many things going on in my life for this to happen. And then there's the thing about having zero motivation to make this phantom time appear.

Maybe my new supervisor - a guy I've never met or even heard of, will help?

Yeah, I won't hold my breath on that one.

I'm gonna blow it all away

OMG it's 16:48 on a Friday and the weekend is so close I can taste it!

Plans for tomorrow:

- a trip to The Big Country (Wales) to check out an investment opportunity (ooh, get me!) and scoff lots of food at the pub, and, if the weather's nice, maybe hit the beach or take a walk in the mountains and enjoy the scenery

- fireworks display at Southport, where we can wear snuggly jumpers and ooh and ahh to our hearts' content

Just hope we can squeeze them both in!

Now I've just got to bear 8 more minutes of interminable boredom... just think, you only had to endure about a minute reading this!

Hello, I'm a robot, can I help you?

Dear Liverpool Lecturers,

I would like to humbly request that you stop giving your students little quizzes about using the library to fill in. It does not spur them into industry. They merely bring the survey to me, ask me all of the answers without endeavouring to look for themselves, and immediately relinquish any knowledge they may have gleaned from the exercise.

There are only so many times within an hour you can say 'The journals are all kept on the third floor in alphabetical order.' Or escort them to a particular class number (and always the same class numbers to everyone, can't we even mix it up a little?) while maintaining a friendly and welcoming demeanour. I have been sitting here for 23 minutes and have been asked these questions 17 times. I know, because every time they ask me, I have to tick a little box. (Yes, this is what I studied for five years to do.)

If you would like to talk to me in person, please do visit me at the library. I will look like this*.

Best,

Disgruntled Employee #1

* Stolen from Josh & Josh

Little Red Berghaus Man

Because of my dreamy and dogged pursuit of that extra bit longer in bed in the mornings (my snooze button allows exactly nine minutes), leaving the house for work is always rather a mad dash. Because of this, I invariably forget something (see: cake incident.) Usually it's something superfluous like my mp3 player, my mobile phone, or my trousers. Quite often it's my wrist watch. This poses rather a large problem since my job is quite a physical one and involves a lot of running about from floor to floor, all of which have clocks showing different times. As I work to a timetable and have to switch jobs at the randomly designated time of say, 11:50, or 3:10, this can be a bit of a pest. Luckily this is not a problem when I'm travelling to work as I have rather ingeniously (I think) adopted a coping mechanism which does not involve craning your head out of the window looking for landmarks with clock towers, OR *shudder* asking a fellow bus passenger the time. His name is Berghaus man. Or at least, that's what I call him. I can chart what time I will clock in at work to a fairly accurate degree depending upon which juncture of London Road I sight him. Rain, wind, hail, or shine he's there, strolling along in a red Berghaus and carrying or sipping at a hot beverage. Today I spotted him by the School of Tropical Medicine, which meant that either I was late, or he was early :P

Okay, so it may not be an exact science...

A Hop, Skip and a Jump Away

I just had to rat on my best friend and reveal to you that MJ has been caught up in scandal - yes, you may soon see him plastered all over the front page of some trashy tabloid in a "LINDSAY LOHAN FAN BLOGS AGAIN" Shocker.

Okay, so it's not that dramatic, but I just wanted to say Ditto to this post. Love Ya Bunnies should always be ignored.

I'm currently on a late night in work discussing allotments with my two older female colleagues and therefore desperately feeling the lack of the erratic and lovably clueless Mr. Mybug, who is MIA.

All these young nubile students I spoke of are making me feel old. I have an urge to go to a grotty bar, drink shots, and do things I'll regret later. I'd say those days are over, but I'm not sure they ever happened for me. *Sigh*

Let Them Eat Cake

I don't know if you may have gathered this about me already, but I am a firm supporter and believer in cake. During my holiday in France, for example, I scoffed quite a few chocolate eclairs and a very yummy coconut affair in this sweet little tea salon.

So, upon my return to England and the drudgery of work, I decided to share my passion and transport a chocolate cake back from the shores of France to the Hellmouth. We have one of those handy little fridges you can run off a cigarette lighter in a car and so we had it running all the way through the journey and all through the night in our hotel room in Ouistreham. And let me tell you: it's not quiet. The bugger kept me awake all night. But we'd bought some little cakes for Boyf's grandparents and other lovely people too so we thought it was worth it.

Yesterday morning, as I readied myself for work, I took the cake out of the fridge and sticky taped the box shut. I placed it in a shopping bag. Then I went into the hall for my coat, picked up my handbag, and ran for the bus, leaving the cake sitting in the conservatory, waiting to melt.

Ho hum. I rang the Boyf to tell him the news, and asked him to bring it when he picked me up from work so the late night staff could have it. Ever so obligingly, Boyf picked it up from my house and took it to his house, where he placed it safely in the fridge, then immediately forgot about it and picked me up sans cake.

In the end, his mother ate it.

Oh well, at least I remembered to bring in Studmuffin's bottle of plonk today, before she got her mitts on that!

Rat Race

I'M BAAAAAACK.

And in work on my lunch hour, helping all the fresh new (young, nubile) students and feeling quite frisky for it too! Who says my job doesn't have its perks?

Well I can't believe my trip to France is over and it's a Monday just like any other. There are three new starters with us this week and I've already been told off for chatting to one of them, because we wouldn't want them to feel welcome or anything eh? Also got told off for chatting when I asked Helena a work-related question that took less than a minute for her to explain. It's mid September and I feel just like I'm back at school! Next I'll be sent into the naughty corner for chewing gum and kissing boys behind the bikesheds. Sometimes I want to pull Troutface about by her hair and scream - "I'm almost 25!!!!!" Well, 24 and a half.

But I digress. Since I've been back I've been catching up with everyone, unwrapping my new purchases, looking at lots of wedding photos and videos from Yank and Li's wedding, and cracking on with the old family tree. I've also already discovered two more jobs I'm gonna apply for, on my first day back. Tee hee.

Whilst we're on the subject, I'd just like to congratulate Guillermo on his swanky promotion and for purchasing a suit! (Pinstripe!) Now I know I'm getting old. Guillermo's 'The Man' - I never thought I'd see the day!

Now please excuse me, I must get back to catching up on Wondy's adventures and all the celebrity gossip I've missed. I really know the important things in life, me.