I have recently been doing real work. Actual getting-paid-for-doing-this work. It’s been exciting to receive a real pay cheque and watch it reduce my debt by a negligable amount.

As a result of going to work, I have also started taking the bus, which has brought about a great amount of stress hitherto unknown to me. It’s not making sure that I get to the bus stop on time, nor is it hoping that there is a seat available (both of which bring about a certain level of stress in themselves). Instead, the hardest part of travelling is getting off the bus.

One can ignore the youths on the back seat hurling abuse at you, or the person at the front merrily spreading their germs through frequent coughing fits, the most troublesome thing on a bus is the little red button with the word “stop” on it.

When do I press? Is now too early? What if I’ve missed my stop and I press it and then I realise I don’t know where I am? What if the button doesn’t work? What if the bus driver doesn’t notice? What if I press it after someone has already pressed, and everyone looks at me like I’m a button pressing maniac?

How can one little button hold so much power?

It’s been a while, I know. It’s not you, it’s me. I’m sorry.

About 14 years ago I was a member of my local library. I used it quite a lot – I was a big fan of Dick King-Smith books and gradually worked my way through most, if not all, of them. I was bit too much of a fan, and sometimes returned them late. However, one day, I decided not to return the book at all. It was a book called “Ace” – it had a brightly coloured cover and looked nice on my bookshelf. Apparently libraries took this crime fairly seriously, and I received a letter to say that I had been banned from the library service indefinitely. I was mortified. Nobody believed that it would last very long. When I was 18 I tried to re-enroll – but was denied due to a “previous lack of compliance with library standards and rules”. One can only assume that Dick King-Smith books are very precious to them as well.

Why am I telling you this? I am writing this in a library. Bar Hill library. For the first time in 14 years I am a member of a local library. I haven’t told them of my previous deviations from library law, and I hope that they don’t find out – at least not until the internet connection has been set up at my house.

So, it turns out that moving house is quite difficult. It’s not the ‘putting things in boxes’ part that’s hard (although it turns out that duvets resent being put in boxes), it’s the ’sorting through stuff’ part that turns ones brain to a confused mush.

In case you hadn’t gathered, Heather and I are moving house. In fact, we are really moving country – we don’t yet have a house to move to. Nevertheless, this means that a lot of our possessions need to go into boxes, where they will be stored for two years, and re-opened when we return. This is, therefore, not your average move.

Firstly, we have to decide if it is ours – Heather has lived in this house for 5 years, and had 5 years worth of roomates who have kindly left her a lot of their possessions. Secondly, we have to decide whether it is coming to England or going to Purgatory. Then, we have to decide if it is worth keeping in a box for two years, or given away / sold / burned. Finally, we have to decide if it is a precious item – and, therefore, must live inside the in-laws house – or, if it is suitable for their garage. So, effectively, there are several moves taking place.

In less than a week’s time we will be in England wondering why we ever got so worried about the move… maybe!

Since Heather and I will be moving to Cambridge for two years in September, I have been keeping an eye out for any interesting jobs I might want to apply for.

One thing I have noticed is that some employers appear to be reluctant to advertise the salary that the job offers. For example, one particular worldwide bank, that originated in Asia in an area that was once controlled by Britain, likes to advertise the salary as being;

£excellent

What does that actually mean? What am I comparing it to? The salary of someone that’s unemployed, or the CEO of a multi-national chain of department stores? Be more precise please, and see me after class.