Another boring day today. I woke up around 1pm and had intentions of going into town but in the end, I didn't. Instead, I just stayed in my room for most of the day, only leaving it to get something to eat and drink.
Gary called me using my Mum's phone. He wanted me to text him the number of the accommodation office so that he could complain for me about the state of where I'm living. According to him, it is illegal for any halls of residence not to have a living room area. Whether this is true, I don't know but after asking him how he knows, he said it's because he's furnished a number of halls. I'm not so sure it's true. This place has been here since 1994.
I told him about the rats, though and the rubbish piling up. He said he'd complain for me. Him rather than my Mum because Gary knows how to sound very adamant.
The binmen are supposed to come tomorrow and remove all of the rubbish that's piling up. I have a feeling they won't, though. If it's not gone by the time I get back from University tomorrow, then I'm going to complain. Again. I'll also take a print out of the photo I took of it all and show them that something needs to be done.
For most of the evening, I laid on my bed reading. I guess it's one nice habit I've accquired since being here and not having access to the Internet.
Hannah text me.
"Just wanted to text you to see if you are ok. I didn't mean to be so horrible to you. I'm sorry."
And I know that she is sorry, but it doesn't mean things will change, unfortunately.
I text back, saying it's ok and asked how she was. We spent the next hour or so texting now and then. I told her that she needs to show me that she cares about me more. That she actually wants me in her life.
"I can't show you anything until I sort myself out", she said. Sadly, that's probably true.
I asked if/when I could see her. She said she promised it would be soon. How soon is soon though? Define soon. Soon to me means one week, maybe two. Not months. I told her this and asked if she keeps her promises.
"I do care about you and I hope it is as well", she said. I will try (but I'll fail) to not get my hopes up when it doesn't happen.
Ahmed is so curious about everything British. It sometimes annoys me, though. Tonight, he asked me about nearly every of food and drink on a flyer that he'd picked up from Somerfield. It was eight pages long with about 50 items on it. "What is this?", "What does this mean?", he says. Obviously I'm more than willing to help most of the time, but he went through a lot of items and it was 11pm and I was in my room. He also wanted me to print something out on my printer, after he'd seen that I had one, which I was happy to do.
He wanted me to install some software on my computer so he could see how to upload media from his phone. I really didn't want to do this. I don't like bloating my computer with uneccesary stuff. I tried to explain to him what the software did (just an application to transfer files), but he wanted me to install it. I don't know how to say no without sounding like a bastard so in the end, I installed as little as possible and then pretended I'd installed everything and showed him what he wanted to see.
One thing I found pretty amusing was when I said something cost "Eighty quid". For you Americans that might not know either, quid is slang for pound.
"Quit?", he said.
"What?"
"Quit?"
"No, quid. With a d.
"Quid?"
"Yeah"
"What does this mean?"
"It's slang. Slang for pound."
"Eighty quid?"
"Yes"
"And for 50p?"
"No, just for pounds, but if you have spare change it's usually called copper"
"Copper?"
"Yeah. But you don't add a number to it."
"So not 20 copper?"
"No"
"Just copper?"
"Yeah"
Amusing.
A little while later, I went downstairs into the kitchen to take some washing out of the washing machine and he was down there. I explained to him that it'd be nice if we had somewhere to actually dry our clothes. Currently, I'm just using any space I can find in my room.
"Use that room", he said, pointing to Room 1, which is currently empty.
"But it's locked", I said.
"No, I don't think so, look"
So he attempted to open the door and sure enough, it was unlocked so we went inside and had a look around. It's almost identical to Ahmed's room. However, what I noticed was that like Ahmed's room, it's bigger than mine. I seem to have the smallest room in the flat and by a fair amount too. It really feels like I got such a shitty deal when I accepted this accommodation.
Again, Ahmed managed to keep me from going back to my room for quite some time but it's not like I was doing anything. I was just tired and bored. When I did go, it was about 12:45am.
He knocked on my door 15 minutes later.
"Can you do me a favour?", he asked.
"Sure"
"Can you print four pages for me?"
"If I must", I said, sarcastically. Just joking. I'm happy to do so.
"What?"
"If I must", I said again.
"If I must?"
"Yeah"
"What does this mean?"
"Huh?"
"What does if I must mean?"
"It means...Hm. I don't know how to explain it. Nevermind, just get your file that you want printed."
"No I want to know what it means"
"It's nothing, it's fine"
And this carried on for about five minutes at my door. It was very very strange having to explain something so normal to me that may of course seem so strange to him.
In the end, he got his stuff and I printed it for him.
He asked to see some of my graphic design work and he was impressed. It's nice that he likes my work, but I've found that most people who aren't graphic designers like my work. That doesn't make me a good graphic designer. Only when fellow graphic designers like my work do I feel that my work is good.
Finally, at 1:45am, he returned to his room and then I started writing this entry.
I'm so glad that I have classes tomorrow. I'm so glad that I actually have somewhere to go and something to do and people to talk to if only for two hours. At least I'll be more productive than sitting in this crappy room.
