exhaustion

A deep tiredness has already set in, which is a little disheartening since we have been back only one and a half weeks. It is something to do with the long and noisy commutes on buses which seem to have reverted to the old and smelliest possible.
If I travel from town, I will probably get a seat all the way although this is not guaranteed. Catching the bus from college around 5 o'clock one is pretty sure of having to ride at the back of the bus, hot, diesel-fumed and crowded. Since I am weighted down with books and papers, this is no fun. By the time I have disembarked to do a little 'speedy' shopping at the grocery store where they are remodelling,- with the result that even the staff do not know where anything is to be found, as it all changes on a daily basis - and got back on the bus to go home, my commute time is drawing out to more than a couple of hours.
Each 2-hour lecture requires 8-10 hours of reading preparation, which might be acceptable but soon I must face the start of writing 3000-word essays, with all the specialised reading that entails. Then there have been all the non-academic, logistic and admin hurdles to be jumped, most of which have now been achieved. No grant as yet, for any of us - they will probably not arrive until October, or even later for new students. I wonder if I am classified as a new student?
Money is very low now and it is hard to stop buying books, especially for new modules that have few books available in the library or reading room. I have bought eight or nine in the last week, but have started selling my archaeology books. Next will be the steel-toed boots...in their box.

User unfriendly

Another chapter in the litany of college complaints: after a week back to the grind, we are to be re-issued cardkeys for the reading room. Leaving aside the fact we never got ANY refund from the deposits we paid at the beginning of last year, as promised, we are glad to be able to get in there, where there are PC extracts from books unobtainable in the Library which we need to read for this week's lectures. We already feel we are losing ground in reading as we have 2 lectures on Tuesday which require us to be prepared, for which we lack the material.
So - the cards will be issued from 10 AM on Tuesday morning and again in the afternoon, after a lunch break. It is just a sad fact that we have to be in town for an 11-1 lecture and another at 2-4 PM, leaving no time to pick up the cards until the next time the (new) librarian deigns to dish them out. When will that be? The following Monday - losing us another week of reading time.
You might think they have designed this to be unhelpful to the poor students marooned off-campus; I couldn't possibly comment. It appears that the sole reason we are situated in those salubrious quarters is to enable the School to maintain a beachhead in town, the University having sold off the remainder of the original University buildings for cold hard cash last year. The rooms in this delightful eighteenth-century house will not be available next semester and we shall return to the grimy campus, having fulfilled our purpose as fodder for the designs of the school.
Nice to feel appreciated.

Thanks to the memory

I spent the month of August trying to complete all the appointments I needed so that I would not be hassled during term time when they would inevitably coincide with a lecture that is important not to miss. I tried but failed to get my teeth seen to - I shall have to wait until mid-January for that, when it will inevitably clash with our return to term.
I did manage to get my eyes checked and buy new glasses - or really replacements for the ones I left on the aeroplane/aercoach home.
All month I searched, when I remembered, for my appointment card from the Diabetes clinic. I was sure it would turn up, but after a particularly thorough search, I had to admit it had been lost somewhen over the summer when I was changing wallets and currencies so frequently or when I was clearing out my cupboards it had been mistakenly chucked away. I was not urgently concerned, because I was pretty certain that the appointment was in October or even November, but I had not written it down anywhere and I needed to know when I should start my extra-low cholesterol diet - (I know, I know, but I am determined not to go on statins).
Finally, giving up hope of finding it, I remembered (after another longish while) to telephone the hospital Out-Patient department.

*ring* No appointment written here; you must speak to the Diabetes centre.
*ring* You missed your appointment, it was on 16 August.

While I was at the Lucian Freud show, I should have been at the clinic, patiently waiting my turn, having got my blood tests done the previous Monday week.
How I could have forgotten that I thought I would be extra clever and move my appointment forward from its usual autumn spot.
Also,for some unknown reason I did not enter it in any of my diaries.
So now I have to reschedule and it will be early December, with an end of November lab appointment. Worst of all, it will be a full fasting work-up at the lab, with cholesterol and liver function tests, the whole 9 yards instead of the relatively light work-up which I would have had in August.
The punishment of an inefficient memory.
I blame the drugs.

It's OK - it's just a clerical error

I had cause for concern this morning when I opened my morning post (why do I still call it that when there is no other kind any more?) and was accosted by a demand for €9600 for fees, to be paid immediately.
Could I have mistaken the yearly amount quoted to me only a week ago for a single semester payment? Taken as correct, could I swing the difference between my County council contribution (generous already) and the full amount? Well, no, not when there would be the Venice trip and extra travel expenses for research, books etc to take into consideration. No, I would have to pull out, pleading poverty - but how had no one explained to me how expensive it was going to be? Nearly 10,000 euro is no small amount for anyone to find. Even my better-off friend on the course would baulk at this payment. So she wouldn't be there either. I began to think of alternative ways to spend my next year.
By this time I had already called the mature student advisor and left a largely incoherent message for him. I finally navigated the switchboard to the fees office, where they informed me that as I was not a EU student, I had to pay up.
I pointed out that I was a Brit and resident in Ireland for 17 years. She insisted that I had paid fees last year and full registration. I insisted that I had had free fees paid by my local county council. She, a foreign national herself to judge by her perfect but accented English, went away again to check. You have paid €103.50 this year, she said triumphantly. Yes, I replied, that is the amount I was told to pay for registration. I had been assured that my County Council contribution was more than adequate for the fees of approximately €4800 and there would be no balance to pay.
Suddenly, she agreed. You can just ignore that thing, she assured me, her English deserting her with the stress of such clerical errors surfacing. It's an error? I pressed. Yes, she reluctantly admitted, just ignore it.

I felt quite queasy with the topsy-turvy start to my day. Welcome back to the UCD world of administration cock-ups.