Tuesday: Of Angry Words

I went to Uni today to submit two assignments – the Archive Work Sheets (AWS ) assignment wherein I was required to research various elements of Scottish identity.

Afterwards, I went down to the grocers and bought about 30 quid of food to carry back alone. This amounted to a backpack full of food, as well as 5 reusable fabric bags. This meant I carried about 30-40 pounds the 4 miles uphill to the flat. Alone. To say I was not a happy bunny would be an understatement (I learned the expression from Stephen Fry).

The situation further compounded itself when got home that night. It was about 6 in the evening and New, Zax and I were busy cooking in the kitchen. Sam came in, slamming the door – as usual – and issued this lovely comment to us: “why isn’t the food ready yet? I was out all day and when I get home I expect my food to be ready. You’re home all day; you should have my food ready by now”. To say I was livid was an understatement. While it was true I had no class that day, I did do the groceries, and I was working on my essay (and making fairly decent progress). Add to that, we never eat before 7, and none of us were happy. There was yelling, the waving of knives, and mutterings.

We kicked the three Africans (No, Aunty Gem, this isn’t racism, merely descriptors) out of the kitchen and decided that we’d had enough. We would give them one more warning and then we were done and they’d have to fend for themselves permanently. We decided that I would present the warning because i have the best English – I also have the shortest fuse, so no help there. We presented it at the table and the chaos was EPIC after that. Sam maintained that he was teasing; I pointed out that no one laughed and we’d asked him to stop. We mentioned how they didn’t always do their assigned work and how would they like it if we stopped ours, they already hate that we have one day off a week. Ernest called us the “wives” and I told him to sod off (I was less eloquent and more pithy in my actual comment, but never mind). The final result was that there is a stronger divide between us; the division of camps is more obvious now and Sam refuses to speak to me.

To make the night even more aggravating, there was some excitement in the block behind ours in the night. Some (highly moronic) first year decided it’d be ace to set off fire crackers. At 1 in the morning. It continued for an hour and only stopped when I opened my window and leaned out of it.

As you may have noticed, I have referred to N as "New" and not "Neo". Apparently, that is the name he actually uses, and I've just been mishearing it... in my defense, that name seems a little odd; I'd much prefer Neo, but that's just me. I'll be referring to him as New from now on – unless I can talk him into changing it to Neo.