Barima in Ghana Part Deux: Now With Added Angst

Working from January to the end of June (and another month to go) straight shore looks purty on my CV. And I have put the time in.

I know more about my family and this crazy place they call their home. This is a doubl-edged sword. Let's say that I cn take better care of myslf here and am learning to avoid the asshats here a bit better.

I'm this close to taking my drivng test after neglecting it for 5 years.

I made a couple of brief but good friendships.

I have about 10% more self-confidence/belief, which is a marked improvement to before. Major improvement.

I actually committed to this crazy scheme and have seen it out for the better part of a year, which I didn't expect at all. But this may have been because I was getting paid.

My job isn't what I hoped it would be, if anything it's possibly the opposite. For one thing, while I'm grateful for the opportunity, it in't what I'm really looking for. For another thing, I've found it difficult to fit in and wish my workmates/place could be more professional and accommodating, massive flaws they're not remotely aware of.

I seem to be as good at keeping a friendship interesting as I was at uni.

The more time I've spent with various memebers of both sides of my ridiculously oversized family, especially the ones I'm staying with, the less I want to be part of it. I'm also beginning to develop issues with my Dad re: helping me decide my future and letting me be me, which isn't what I want at all.

My patience with people is at an all time low. I don't like blatant self-interest or presumptiousness or th fact that all the One Foot In The Grave repeats in the world can't help most people understand an English accent or indeed distinguish between that and an American one.

I want my frightening "ex" (yeah, that one weekend really means we were dating) to stop acting like Michelle from Big Brother every time I see her. I may be the idiot who got in on with you but I thought we understood that it couldn't go any further. Move on already.

I'm no longer sure if I made the right choice in coming, basically. I just feel like I ran away from the question of whether I could hack it in London and ended up pandering to my parents instead of myself. Mind you, I reckoned anything could be an improvement on last year.

Oh yeah, add "My new gymbody" to the good part.

Oh also, have I asked you yet if your name is a weekday?

Martin, no, you haven't. I was born on a Sunday (Mothering Sunday, just like this year) - my "day name" is Akwesi. And I'm happy with that.

I guess I'm just fated to never own that figure :-(

Oh hell, I gave my cousin a bit of cash to put in my account! I totally bet she didn't do it! This is her fault!

No luck with the card again (I must be broke, basically). I e-mailed one of my brothers in London to try on my behalf (and to find out what my cousin did with my money).

Nicole, I e-mailed you the address last night, good luck.

Steve, I'm in Ghana! The thread title says it all, really, stop drinking the Glasshouse dry every day.

Drudgery beckons.

(what is Deadpool tho?)

http://www.free-definition.com/Deadpool.html

He's really good looking:

http://www.oafe.net/shocka/ml6_dp.php

And I'm a neurotic geek, but hey.

A spoonerism, sorta.

STILL thinking about it.

Gosh, I should really travel back to '98 and get Kevin Smith to write me into the first Clerks comic.

Westlife and Fiddy - now there's some interesting crush tapes.