Girls may not wanna have fun with Brits

Friday mornings are always extremely easy and extremely hard: knowing that you're so close to that magical lie in, but you're still one day away. I wasn't convinced I'd get any nearer figuring out what it was I was actually supposed to do, in spite of a two hour training session in the afternoon.

At lunchtime I went out with the girls this time, to a restaurant near Kalvin Ter, an area more frequented by tourists, a sign that it was unlikely to be as bargaintastic as the previous day. Indeed it wasn't, but it was still very reasonable by English standards. I went for chicken livers, and unfortunately my meal looked decidedly less attractive than theirs. I consoled myself with the fact mine was probably the healthiest. Surprisingly though the girls were very quiet, and seemed a little nervous. I imagined it was because they'd normally natter away in Hungarian, and so my presence was a decided complication. Ah well, perhaps I'd grow on them.

The afternoon training was very tiring, running through a long overview of the accounting processes with several powerpoint slideshows. It was educational, but frightfully dull, and I was glad to have an excuse to get out a little early, needing to get a form signed by the HR douche before he went on holiday. Come five o'clock I was very pleased to be going home, and looked forward to plans I had.

As I got to my door the phone rang. It was the annoying guy who acts as representative for my landlord. After a frustrating phone call, where I once more tried to make myself understood without antagonising him to much, I found myself spitting feathers, and wanting to hit things. He was going to come round on Tuesday with my bills. I was amazed at the cost giving that I'd been here less than two weeks! But trying to ask whether they were just from the period I'd rented the place was useless. Thank goodness he'd not called the night before, when I was already feeling overwrought and weepy.

Unfortunately the plans I had for the evening quickly got cancelled, and I faced a rather depressing night in alone. I managed to convince a friend to come over, if only for a few hours, and set about doing a little housework in the mean time. There is something deeply satisfying about clean dishes, and a very appetising, if utterly simple supper (cheap man's risotto). Roll on the weekend...and another trip to Tesco!!