Man, being alone with a seven to thirteen hour gulf between you and most of your nearest and dearest really lends itself to emotional instability. Yesterday was particularly rough - I realized that I still have a ton of work for this article (due on Tuesday), and found out that my attempted transfer was returned to my bank account in the UK, minus $150. And nobody can tell me what went wrong, because they said that's been mailed to my box in Oxford and I can sort it out in October. Fantastic.
The upside is that I looked at apartments, and I've got two reserved till Monday - one is in a student high-rise that's really lively and has a bunch of shops downstairs, but the room looks like a prison cell; the other is a little bit further from the university and slightly chaotic, but the suite is fully furnished, really cozy, and has a kitchen, bathroom, and sitting room. Meep. Neither of them have internet, but that's typical of most of the places I've found online, and they're both near internet cafes. Anyway, I think I'm taking the suite instead of the room, but I'm trying to convince the woman to throw in appliances for free because I'm cheap like that, and would feel karmically better if she could give me $150 worth of kettles, toasters, and microwaves.