A little bit and another little bit...
My miniature room heater has a new trick. It overheats and turns itself off after 5 minutes. I am not a fan. However, I have discovered more than a few tricks to heating myself up. The best one is to clean. Everything. The dishes are a good starting place, mostly because I let them pile up and so do my housemates, but also because I use incredibly hot water that kills all germs (I hope) as well as the nerves in my hands. Of course, I do them all. The next trick is to make something to eat, because if I'm near the oven or the stove, I get very warm very quickly. This means I get the dishes all dirty again, but, seeing as I've just done them and am sufficiently warm, I leave them for the next time I get cold. My last trick is either to leave the house for a long walk or to turn on good music and have a dance party. Irish dancing is a particularly effective way to warm up, but I find running around the house and toppling over sofas very effective as well. As you can see, there are so many ingenious ways to save money on heating and stay healthy at the same time!
As some of you know, I now work in a pharmacy full time. My job is shop assistant, which has been and is so much more fun than it sounds. The shop itself is tiny, and the dispensary behind the counter is just as tiny. Despite hardly any room, we often have six people working at one time. Over the holidays it was absolutely insane, like a high-speed obstacle course involving drugs and elderly ladies and shampoo and very bad weather (ie. floors that resembled a mud hole). In some ways, working there is comparable to living in a small neighbourhood. On the block, there's the tiny fruit and veg shop, the tiny sweet shop with all the magazines, the tiny bakery, the tiny butchers, the tiny pizzeria (opening hours usually after the pharmacy is closed), the tiny flower shop, the tiny bank... Well, you get the picture. Everybody knows everybody else. I get discounts on sight at almost all the tiny shops! And the fruit and veg shop has the biggest and most delicious leeks ever! I am somewhat appalled that I was not acquainted with leeks earlier in life. Mom, they are amazing. Hint. Hint.
I often get lifts into work with one of the girls I work with, but there are days I take the bus. It's an adventure to take the bus, not simply because I doubt whether or not the time on my phone is accurate, so it's always a risk whether or not I arrive on time, but also because you learn certain things about Belfast and people. In the first place, school children do not necessarily have school buses to collect them in the mornings. In fact, most of the school buses that do exist are regular buses with "School Bus" on the signs rather than the route number and destination. This means that one does not go to the top deck of doubledecker buses. That is the domain of school children. Trust me. You do not want to be surrounded by boys in secondary school (high school) on your way in to work. There is a time and place for everything, and high school and high school buses are things of the past.
Another thing you learn is that the Romanian gypsy network of beggars is incredibly well organised and disturbingly profitable. We have a Romanian gypsy stationed on our pharmacy's block every day, for what must be the scheduled period of time for the appointed person. They often rotate, but we get more or less the same people. The reason one learns things on the bus is that they take the buses to work in the mornings and home at night, just like people with regular jobs. One of the girls is from near where I live, which is in south Belfast, about a half an hour journey in the morning from the pharmacy, which is in north Belfast. I know this because she takes the same bus as I do. When I expressed my surprise to locals about the situation, I discovered that the organisation of Romanian beggars is well known. One lady told a tale of meeting one gypsy, whom she knew to have worked the streets of Belfast near her home, on holiday in Spain! They recognised eachother and struck up conversation! Well to-do beggars flies in the face of beggary itself... I am curious as to exactly how it all works.
Anther benefit of my job, besides simply having a job and having it full time, is that I get paid holidays, European style. In other words, I get thirty days paid holidays per year, including bank holidays! People have an entirely different approach to holidays in Europe, as many of you surely know. When they go on holiday, they go for two or three weeks, minimum. None of this one week holiday business. I mean, you've only just started to relax after one week! How could you possibly go back to work?! That is unconscionable! So, to make a long story short, I heartily approve. I am also not complaining about the conversion rate for when I wire money home. So much for hoping for a smaller conversion rate when I first came over. Now I want it to be as big as possible! Go back up to 2.5 dollars per 1 pound. Do it! Ah, for the good old times.
In other, non-monetary news, I've struck up good friendships with all my work colleagues, which has led to some great fun. For instance, we all go to the gym on Tuesdays and Thursdays and pump some iron and run about in circles until we are red in the face and work up enough appetite to go home and completely negate any calorie loss through the subsequent feasting. I do occasionally go Irish dancing at other times, but the constant hopping gets tiresome. No offense, Irish cultural activists. You are all middle aged, and my winsome charms and boundless energy need a younger audience.
I am now writing poetry again. (Shock). My creativity needed some outlet, and it has come out in two ways. I have dived head first into Northern Irish fashions, and I am writing. As far as fashion is concerned, I am sure my mother mourns the loss of my formerly sensible nature, which has been commandeered by purple suede heels and embroidered blouses. Obviously, I am more proud of the writing, hence the twofold mention. I am not exactly sure if I am any good at it, but I do enjoy it. Don't be alarmed when you come across one of my blurbs on the new "About Me" page. I just wanted to jazz things up a bit without actually being more egocentric than the blog itself requires. What I mean is, this blog already is entirely about me. I've used the new page to convey a different feel for what I am experiencing in Belfast for those of you who can stand poetry.
Oh, lovely! I just fixed my heater.
I will never do dishes again.
No comments:
Post a Comment