Fortune has been written in my destiny today.
Although I started university a week ago, I had not a pretty penny to pay for the fees.
My student finance was left to the last minute and so it was taking time to have the forms put through the process. Entirely my fault.
If to add more to my money woes, I haven’t had a real earning job in over 6 months, 1 year, jheez... 2 years. I know, it sounds bad and sadly it’s truer than I’d like to believe.
But thankfully I was good with money and I had enough to get around and have a good time whilst not having to really worry; it wasn’t as if I was paying bills at home or renting.
But like I said, fortune was fortunate for me at the right time, and so things are now going to change…
I got a letter 3 weeks back saying my application was declined, and I wasn’t going to no money this year. Shit.
I still went to uni anyway. My card worked, so I could get in whenever I wanted. But I knew that wouldn’t be so easy afterwards.
I’ve been stressing out because without the payment, I couldn’t get my second year units up on my student electronic Blackboard (ours is called BREO, but what the hell it’s still a Blackboard), and it meant I was going to miss out on work and some really good opportunities. I didn’t want to fall behind so early into the term.
I got in, got registered online. Didn’t do the paper part of the registration because they wanted the proof paper that said I was gonna pay em’ through the SF. I said, ‘Fuck off’ to that idea.
And then it comes to the end of the week, still broke and illegally attending university.
Now you’re reading and thinking ‘where’s the part about fortune coming to the rescue?’ – Well, for the smart arses that can’t shut up and be patient, here it is:
River Island was looking for people for 16 hour shifts.
I desperately applied with my head lolling over the word ‘discount’, and I got a call-back.
I felt the interview went hideously but damn ka-zam, I looked fabulous.
Peep toe buckle heels with a striped waistcoat on a white shirt combined with skinny blacks. My face was made up of ruby lippy and a quaint blush that was complimented by combed long lashes cutely hidden under a subtle fringe and a loose black scarf.
Describing myself this way, I’d even do me.
Anyway, after four days of biting into my fingernails thinking of all the cringeworthy things I must’ve said to the manager and whether my clothes on the day smelt like ethnic cooking, I got a ‘how many hours can you work?’ on the phone.
That was the only thing that really told me I had broken the curse of my unemployability.
On the same day, I got a letter with my name on it. It was my day off of uni today so I was sludging around in pyjamas when I opened it.
It said that student finance was paying for my tuition fees!
I punched the air for victory. But then I felt extremely betrayed, almost a little too angry than I’d like to have been.
The cheek they had to decline the application first was enough to set off a flurry of panic alarms in my head and just before I due to start, this was not a good way to begin my second year.
If I stress, I give birth to spots all over my face. They begin to breed towns on my forehead, cheeks and chin. I’ll be so acne-ridden I’ll end up using a taser to pop the basterds.
But for them (student finance guys, not the spots) to turn around and then say ‘sure we’ll give you the money, no problem’, it is a bit of a worry.
Did they hear something? Did they fuck up?
Now, I don’t care. I’ll be rich again, and I’ll be employed. That’s the best ending anyone can ever ask for.
So that’s the fortune chapter done in my life, now to sit and wait for the fame monster to creep along and spin on me the coolness of having a bodyguard who’ll shoot at things when I ask him to, party invitations to boring but pap-fuelled events, and taking expensive hard looking drugs and being with annoyingly good-looking people who just as annoying as they look. Weeh hoo!
Peace out, Troggs. Check out 'How Can Anybody Know How I Feel' by Morrissey to get a sense of how I feeling when I thought I'd get no love from money and generally hating everybody else who crossed me looking like chavs/emos/schlaaaaaags.
