Londonward

It’s seemingly always with some nutjob taking a gun and shooting people up. As I write this, the Finnish media is reporting that the shooter has died from his self-inflicted wounds, leaving 11 others dead. No doubt the grey masses will be demanding for internet censorship as a way to suppress the misanthropic behaviour of these idiots, as they did after the case of Pekka-Eric Auvinen. I don’t know what drives people to such insanity. It just saddens me, in fact. Per capita, Finland is now one of the worst school shooting nations in the world. Does it have something to do with the high per-capita gun ownership? I don’t have a clue. No doubt someone will start to huff and puff about an article like this that blames a culture of silence and self-repression among men, but having seen both sides of it I think it may have something to it.

Thanks, asshole.

London smells exactly the same it did 2 years ago when I first arrived in the country. The mixture of cigarette smoke, exhaust fumes, human activity in all its forms and the general pervasive stench of late September London will probably never go away.

I completely don’t feel like I’m about to start another year of uni in a week and a half. I’m working full days, I’ve got a social calendar bursting with stuff and I should handle some preparation and Students’ Union stuff as well. As long as the year doesn’t start like a rug being pulled from under my feet I think I’ll be fine.

What a surprise that my salary payment has been screwed up again. This time I’ve been paid for my regular hours on time but the extra hours we put in on a Sunday and a Monday morning in August haven’t been counted. I understand that my direct supervisor is extremely stressed and busy at the moment, but it took until my colleague and I marched into his office this morning that he took up the phone and called the person responsible.

Apparently we haven’t been paid because she is new and had been left with no instructions about what to do with a list of names our department had provided. I can understand that, but she could have at least asked. It now seems like we’ll be paid at the end of October for stuff we did in August. Not a good thing, especially considering I am more than a little skint at the moment.

This morning, I bought a breakfast sandwich from a little Italian shop near Red Lion Square. It was obviously a family affair, with lookalike father and son putting together sandwiches behind a massive glass display of various panini, ciabattas an fillings. They greeted each of their established customers by name, exchanging pleasantries along with the money. Sure, when my turn came the mozzarella and tomato sandwich was on white bread which I’m not too keen on, but the guy slapped on fresh basil and extra virgin olive oil which made it really, really nice. I was sent on my way with friendly well-wishes which seemed genuine.

I also had my first haircut at an actual shop in London. I’d managed to avoid it until now due to having a contact who’d do it semi-regularly for free, but having a shaggy mop eventually just got the better of me and I marched into the hairdressers nudged into the corner of the LSE campus. I’m somehow self-conscious of haircuts, but this one ended up not being a disaster… At least comments so far have been positive-or-neutral or “oh, you had a hair-cut”.

Should I have tipped? Probably. Oops. Well, I’m burning a hole in my finances already, so I’ll let it slide this once.