Ouch

Also, on other news: I fell with my bike today. The bikechain fell of the gears when I set off again after waiting at a red light, which made the pedals yank my feet down and set me flying right into the curb. Luckily for me, I was not biking in the middle lane anymore as I was at first, otherwise I would have surely been badly hurt, if not killed. So I have decided, in view of this incident and the fact that the whole ride before that I was thinking "this is madness, I am never riding down Smithdown Road anymore, what horrible country is this that they don't even have bike-paths!", that I will not be riding down Smithdown Road anymore when going from Plattsville Road in the direction of City Centre (madness!), only when coming back up (much safer). Instead, I will figure out a peaceful route through backstreets and parks, so I can take my bike out for a spin without risking to be killed on the way.

This country should really start thinking about its cyclists...

That bloody dissertation...

Yes. I did it. I actually worked on my dissertation today. I figured that seeing I have no job at the moment, I might as well spend at least part of my time doing something useful. I edited grammar mistakes and some suggestions of my professor, leaving the bigger issues to be tackled at a latter date. But not to be worried: I will finish this dissertation in time. I have two more weeks, which means I have one more week, so I am giving myself the deadline of Saturday the 14th (so I am worry-free by Sunday the 15th) and I will have finished by then, and it will be good. I don't know if I will work on it tomorrow, as I am going out for lunch and might stick around after (at Barrington Road, where else), and I certainly will not work on it on Monday (imagine working on my birthday - what ludicrecy!), but Tuesday is booked as a schoolday (together with an appointment at the bank - finally!) and unless I find a job by Wednesday, I will be working on it for the rest of the week. If I do find a job, I will just have to work on it in the evenings (now I still have time to spare).

All this productivity is making me feel rather jolly, to be honest. Hoora!

On to the beach we go!

Friday night, we went to the beach ("we" is a bunch of people from church, ed.). Though the sun might not have been shining and the wind was a-blowing, it was a lovely evening. I myself am quite used to going to the beach in winter and autumn, taking long walks along the waterside, the salt embalmed on your lips when you head back to the car. After some dune-rolling (ever so slightly, only one meter or so and I already got a pounding headache from it!), Katie, Greg, Luke and I decided to test the waters. Jeans rolled up to my knees, I paddled a little, but after seeing both Greg and Katie swimming to their hearts' content, I could no longer restrain myself and I strode into the high seas, the water splashing my jeans as the sand embraced my toes. Feeling free and alive and with the water only an inch away from my buttocks, I headed back to the beach, where the realisation hit me: I now had on salty, sandy, wet jeans, which were stinging my skin (very sensitive skin, remember!) and I had brought no change of clothes. Onto the beach towel it was, trying not to provoke any of my church friends with the nakedness of my upper tighs whilst squirming myself out of the wet piece of clothing. With a towel wrapped around my waist and a warm hoodie sheltering me from the sea breeze, I happily stared out over the water and felt at home and at peace.

But the adventure wasn't over. We rounded the group up and drove into the woods, where by now the darkness covered all in a spooky gloom. The boys had the bright idea to play hide and seek. Luckily, we paired up. Coincidentally, I was always found first (why would that be, I wonder?) and enjoyed many a minute eating pringles and drinking a delightful fizzy peach drink whilst trying to discern shapes in the ever faster approaching darkness. It was a rather pleasant evening, not too warm nor too cold (I had put on my slightly dryer jeans before we headed into the woods), which ended in an interesting conversation about different cults and denominations. Cup of tea at Barrington (of course - I keep referring to Barrington Road when I say I am heading home - this is becoming rather awkward) and then a refreshing walk home, meeting butterfly bushes all along the way. And the sand in my shoes wasn't even that bad.

That's how you know.

I've been trying to write. Not just tell what is happening, but write. Thoughts are spinning in my head, keeping me awake and rocking me to sleep. My room smells like ginger. I patiently wait for the package to drop through the letterbox. I patiently wait for the text to come through. And on and on I go. I wonder if I'll find a job. How long I'll have to look. I wonder if I did the right thing, if I made the right choice. I wonder whether I am waiting in vain.

But the butterfly bush in the neighbouring garden gives me peace in my thoughts and hope in my heart.

Another jobhunt.

So I quit my job last night. The reason I did this was that I had been leaving the house at 7.30am and not returning til 8 or 9pm, without earning a penny and even losing some money on transportation and calls we had to make for the job. I had to make a choice between hanging in there, trying again and again, and hopefully making a sale at some point, or quitting and looking for a new job which had normal hours and normal pay. I told myself that if I didn't make any sales on Tuesday, I would quit. And so I did. And instantly, a burden fell off my shoulders. I felt myself again, happy again, without stress or the feeling of sufication. I found my way back to Barrington Road (more on that later) and afterwards slept well for the first time in four nights.

So tomorrow, I will go on another job hunt. I will not be picky and I will not give up. All I need is a job which pays, so I can pay my rent and my tuition fees. And have a life. Especially that last detail. I did not move to slave away. This is the city of my dreams and no bonus in the world could make me not experience it like that.

Refound hope.

Kyle, my couchsurfer of last week, wrote a post on his blog about his visit to Liverpool and how it was the friendliest place he ever visited. Reading his wonderful words reminded me again why I love this city so much and wiped away the clouds which have been hanging around my head for the past few days. This is the city I love, the city I lost my heart to, the city of my dreams, the proof that dreams do come true. Looking at Kyle's pictures, I saw the city through his eyes and remembered how much I loved Liverpool when I first set foot on the Merseyside soil and how happy this place makes me.

Life is good, and though I might be jobless at the moment, I will find my way and live the dream, fully, totally, forever.

Jobless

Just quit my job. More on that tomorrow. No worries, though.