Monday, 5 July 2010

stupid small-town mentality

i'm flatsitting for a friend in mid-country nowhere, in a very small hamlet.  they have everything you need--fast food, grocery, pharmacy, bank, library... the only problem is the hours.  why is it the pharmacy thinks they can close for two hours in the middle of the day?  i need a prescription filled.  i can't be waiting around to drop it off, and then wait around to pick it up the next day.  i want it now.  but nooooo.  they open for a couple of hours in the morning, and a couple more hours in the afternoon.  how is that helpful?!

the grocery store stays open til 10pm, but they charge an arm and a leg for everything.  more than £2 for a small jar of peanut butter? no plain vanilla ice cream?  shelves empty with no idea when they'll restock?  i guess when they have a captive market they think they can get away with anything. 

and the fast food joint, as well as the restaurants and delivery places, charge more than anywhere else i've been.  captive market again?  perhaps.  in a hamlet that can't possibly be more than 1 mile square, why do they think they can charge £3 and more for delivery?  that's outrageous. 

mostly i'm just frustrated.  it costs too much to get the bus into the next city over (20 minutes, £4.90 return), so i can't even easily go get things cheaper.  or with more variety.  or whatever. 

i hate small towns.

Sunday, 4 July 2010

i hope they burn in hell

and that's only a slight exaggeration.

some jerks broke into our flat this week.  the one day i was out, meeting a friend for lunch.  i was gone two hours, and when i got back couldn't get in.  our lock was broken.  we've had trouble with it before, so i thought it was just acting up.  when we finally forced the door, my flatmate and i, we still didn't really see anything amiss.  till i went to check my email, and my laptop was gone.  and the laptop a friend was loaning me so my own laptop doesn't overheat and shut down and lose my thesis.  and the thumb drive with all my work from the past six years.  and my filofax.  and two chequebooks.  and a wallet with us cash and cards.  and my flatmate's broken laptop.  and his camera with all his photos from his last holiday.  and his filofax.  and his gold chain. 

mostly i was angry about losing all my work.  my thesis.  everything but the last draft i'd emailed to my supervisor, because he still had it in email form.  two weeks' of work, completely gone.  six years of random bits and smaller pieces, completely gone.  and i'm supposed to submit in a month, and now i'm totally demoralised and don't want to do anything. 

those assholes.  i hope they get caught.  i hope they get nothing for the stuff they took.  i hope they suffer horribly from painful and humiliating diseases because of the time and energy they stole from me.  bastards.