The Edible Calendar

In my endless quest to find new ways in which to count down just how long I have left here, I have stumbled upon a truly good one.

The Weetabix Calendar.

I love to have breakfast cereal first thing in the morning, and, to keep the costs down, I like to buy Weetabix, because that stops me pouring out a giant bowl of Coco Pops or some other stupidly expensive cereal. Because Weetabix is very definite, I can have the same amount each day. Therefore, it is very predictable, and so very easy to know when you need to buy a new one. And in any case, I like it.

But yesterday I realised that the amount of Weetabix I currently have stashed in the cupboard will take me up to, give or take a day or two, the day I leave London.

So now I have a physical representation of the amount of time I have left here. And each day it is eroded away, bit by bit. This means no more constant repetition of “four weeks left” in my head. Now I can open the cupboard and see time, literally, being eaten away.

In other exciting news, my jobless housemate has returned. Without his keys. Which is very annoying because it means we have to let each other in, depending on who has the keys. And the landlord has completely ignored my housemate’s request to borrow the spare keys for a week until he gets them sent down here.

But at least the atmosphere is good at the moment. We appear to be on good terms again, and there are much fewer awkward silences than before. Maybe the break has done him good in getting his mental state sorted out. I know he was at the psychologist again the other day, and in truth it’s the only reason he’s come back, because he had an appointment with them. There’s no other reason to be here when there’s nothing to do all day.

Which, unfortunately, led to something quite annoying. I ordered a new digital camera on Thursday, after the old one gave up the ghost and I got a credit note for it (because it was still under warranty). But, in an amazing display of efficiency, the camera was delivered on Friday. Or rather, they attempted to deliver it. Of course, my housemate was in, but he was sleeping, as usual. Whereas now I could have had my brand shiny new digital camera to play with, instead I’m now going to have to take the day off (or at least the morning) on Monday so that I can be utterly certain I will get it when they redeliver.

Not that I’m missing anything in work. The election campaign has made things utterly dead. At least it’s over on Thursday, and then the excitement begins. I predict an all-nighter…

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