fuck them up their stupid asses

so i spent most of my day at the embassy today. i read a whole book and still had time over (incidentally, i should have re-thought my choice of book, as it kept making me choke up, and i was thinking how terrible it would be to start crying in the middle of the embassy, in that huge waiting room, because of a sodding book.) i had to buy overpriced food because, in a case of astounding wishful thinking, i thought it would take maybe an hr and a half, two hours at most and hadn't had lunch or anything.

and then i finally get called up there for my interview (one of the last up, natch), only to find out that i'm not on the correct database, that the "organisation" that's sorting out this internship hasn't entered me.

i got outside, called the company, managed to remain calm, then went round the corner and burst into tears on the phone to my mum. not my finest moment. there were three armed police guards staring at me. excellent. one of them even strolled really unsubtly right around me, brandishing his machine gun, checking i wasn't carrying a bomb or something i expect. no, no, just your run-of-the-mill public breakdown.

i'm so fucking fed up with the company; they seem so bloody disorganised. as if moving to another country for year wasn't stressful enough without all this other shit.

so today's f-u goes to them. fuck MB, fuck them up their stupid asses.