Londonward

Seems when working for the LSE, you have to be prepared to wait a long time for your money if you’re new or getting it due to unconventional circumstances. In this case, I’m still waiting (and apparently will be, for another month) for the extra cash the School was supposed to pay me for extra shifts this past summer. Yeah, it’s nearly 3 months now. I am so not impressed.

Everyone concerned is blaming each other, and in the midst of all this us lowly workers are left wanting. And it’s not a little bit of money I’m owed, either - if I remember my claim form right it adds up to some £400! I was hoping to have some extra cash in November to maybe buy something cool (like new clothes, or a new sleeping bag because who knows when you’ll need one) or even stash something away on the off-chance that I’ll actually get into Oxbridge.

Supposedly, there is some back-office wrangling going on to get us paid. Eh, maybe I’ll just end up getting extra money for Christmas presents.

(Though that means a smaller-than-expected paycheck this month. Damn.)

Seeing how aghast I was when I heard that a guy I met (to pick up a key for a friend of mine) had been at work until 2:30am on Friday night he just looked at me frankly and said “that’s how it is in this line of business”.

I was coming down off an absolutely epic bank holiday weekend full of food, friends, music, shouting and not very much sleep and must have looked an absolute state. To be honest, right now I feel his line of business (investment banking) dehumanises their young recruits while enticing them with the prospect of good money. But what good is money if you’re only spending it on fast food delivered to the office or, worse, coke to get you through the night? While I dread looking through my receipts for the weekend, I didn’t spend extraordinary amounts of money - I got enjoyment from having a pint with friends, singing along to silly songs and sitting down for an 8-person Sunday lunch that stretched into a wine-fuelled afternoon lounging on a rooftop. You know what I mean. I don’t think I’d trade it for the world even though I was a little tired this afternoon at work. I’d rather have it that way - that my free time makes its presence known in my work rather than the opposite.

But then again, maybe earning a whole lot somehow compensates for 16-hour work days. I wouldn’t know, as I haven’t had the chance to try.

“Hi, I’m new at the LSE” the student introduces himself as he approaches me at work. He asks about how to find some books on intellectual property law, so I redirect him to the librarian. Before going to speak to her, he turns around on his heels and asks me, pronouncing in that charming way south Asians have, “There is no vi-fi in the halls is there?”

Um, no, I say. The network is not wireless in the rooms, only in the common areas. And if that doesn’t work, he would have to speak to the IT staff in his hall of residence as they would be the people to fix it.

He thanks me and turns to leave again, only to think of one more question: “When I was at Warwick, we could share movies and songs over the LAN. Why’s that not possible here?”

I reply with two words. “That’s illegal”.

“Kai, what does this say?” asks a librarian colleague of mine shoving a pile of papers in front of me. It’s in Swedish, bibliographical details of a book published in Helsinki.
“Ummm.. border issues in Karelia 1918-1920, that sort of thing,” I reply.
“What’s that?”

I show him Karelia on Google Maps, explaining all that used to be part of Finland before the war. He nods and places the sheet into the “approve” pile, moving on to the next item on the list.

There has been an occasion where I’ve grabbed a Russian book he’s wondering about, read the Cyrillic title and asked him whether he’s going to keep the book. “You read Cyrillic? Why did you not tell me this earlier?” was his question. My answer? You never asked. So now I’ve had my say in what books the British Library of Political and Economic Science has chosen to keep or purchase. Ultimately trivial, but you’ve got to get your kicks somehow.