People Don’t Need to Know I’m Gonna be Homeless.

Everyone thinks I’m going off to live this wonderful life in the big city; I’m too ashamed to tell them the truth…

I’ve been accepted onto a Masters course in the big city – London! Sounds great, right? I mean, this is a good thing! It’s great! I’m happy about it! This was my dream…

Rewind to how this all came about. A glorious spring morning in 2016, I was lying on the floor, bawling my eyes out and trying to think of the quickest way to kill myself. Because my life had counted for nothing. I had dreams… That’s only human, right? Some people have big dreams, some people have simple dreams, and some people are quite happy waking up and going to work and coming home and eating their TV dinner in front of some reality TV show and going to bed and waking up and living Ground Hog Day every damn day of their damn lives in Punxsutawney, Pissville. But, I’d had enough! I was literally sick to death of living in Punxsutawney, Pissville!

My dream was to move to America (where everyone I know lives) and be a professor. Y’see, I’m an academic person. Some people love hair & beauty. Some people love soccer. I love education. I love learning new things about the world. And everyone I know lives in America; I’m lonely in the UK. In that moment of lying on the floor, bawling my eyes out, I realized that there were only two options available to me. So I stopped crying, picked myself up and started working towards my goal of moving to America and becoming a professor. Getting a really useful Masters qualification is the second big step towards that goal (the first was getting my teaching qualification). America doesn’t just let anyone in. I need to become… impressive.

Problem is… I’m broke. I’ve always been broke. I’ve been sleeping on couches since I was 15. People talk about “2nd generation poverty” or “3rd generation poverty” but I don’t think any of my ancestors ever knew anything besides poverty. My great-great-great grandmother earned a few bucks by collecting dead bodies of sailors who had washed up on the shore. In fact, poverty is so normal to me that I don’t understand how or why other people my age have so much money… I see people with rich parents, mortgages, cars and stable jobs as, like, these magical beings… like, they must be blessed or something.

Rewind to summer 2008, I finished my bachelor degree just in time for the economic meltdown and ended up working dead-end, minimal-wage jobs. Like a lot of millenials, I was stuck in the infinity loop of over-qualified-under-experienced. (And they wonder why millenials aren’t having kids? We can’t afford kids!) Getting laughed out of low-pay interviews because we’re overqualified; getting laughed out of higher-pay jobs because we have no experience. Not that I get many interviews in a climate where 100 people are applying for every job and 99 of them have better CVs than I do.

I have to do this Masters degree. For me, there is no option. It’s this, or the roof of a multi-storey carpark. It should be a happy occasion. I’m moving to the big city! I love learning and this is a stepping stone towards my dreams. But universities are screwing over their Masters students with extortionate fees. So I’m going to be homeless. Not homeless like a tramp, but homeless like I’ll be living in youth hostels for the academic year. Although, considering I currently live on a couch in someone’s living room, and two months ago I was sleeping on a floor… perhaps it will be a slight upgrade. But I dread not having any privacy and I’m concerned about my valuables being stolen and I worry about sleeping next to strangers who could potentially be psychopaths…

Rewind to 2016, the government introduced student loans for Masters degrees. Which is great! I could not do my Masters without this funding. But unlike at bachelor level where you have two separate amounts for your fees and for your living expenses, the Masters funding is just one lump sum for everything. You get up to £10,280 total, maximum, final. As soon as the government announced this, many universities in England rammed up their Masters fees from previously being between £2,000-£6,000 to now being, you guessed it, £10,280.

Because they can.

Most universities in the UK are money-obsessed and have zero consideration for their students mental and physical well-being.

And so students are left with nothing to live off.

The government knew full well that most universities would charge as much as they could get away with. It’s criminal that universities don’t have to justify why a course has increased by up to £8,000 in the span of one academic year. On top of that, universities will toss out any student they think might struggle because they’re obsessed with ratings. The latter is understandable but the former goes against the ethos that educational establishments are supposed to be held by. How can an institution claim to be inclusive and support diversity and equality when they a) only accept top performing students, b) charge fees that exclude most people?

So now that the universities are charging such high fees, how are students supposed to live?

My university is not quite charging £10,280. No, they’re charging £8,500. I could study a cheaper Masters but that would mean ending up with a less useful qualification (think: Msc. Baby Farts), which would mean lower future wages and less ability to move to the USA, so that’s not a risk I’m willing to take. I can only do this once, may as well make it count. But this leaves me with £1,780 to live off for 10-months. That’s £178 per month….

Obviously, I’ll get a job, but I don’t know how long that will take or how much I’ll be able to earn in the limited hours available between studying.

Quick math lesson…

Costs for the academic year:

  • Hostel accommodation = $4,000 (MINUS £2220. Notice I’m already in minus figures by several grand and I’m homeless and haven’t even bought a damn sandwich yet…)
  • Money I owe people = £2400 (-£4620)
  • Food/Drink/Clothes/Toiletries = £1000 (-£5620)
  • Travel costs = £500 (-£6120)
  • Stationary & Books = £300 (-£6420)
  • P.O Box address = £200 (-£6620)
  • Trip to Disneyland = wait… What? Ok, fine, no Disneyland.

Compare this with Undergraduate degrees where students get their £9,000 per year fees paid and various grants and loans to cover living costs up to £9,000 per year. It’s not mega-bucks, but it’s far better than £1780. Another comparison: For my teacher training course that I did last year, I got £8000 fees paid, a £9,000 maintenance loan, and a £4,000 bursary.

Why is it so impossible to offer the same for Masters students? Why? WHY!? They know damn well they can afford it, so why?! Why are we being screwed over and forced to live below the poverty line when other students are given maintenance loans?

And this £6620 debt is while living like a homeless person, and putting my physical and mental well-being in danger. This isn’t living some luxury life. And this is all just to attend a university course. To try to get somewhere with my life. To try to get a decent job so I can earn a decent wage so I can eventually own my own home sometime before I die and eventually live close to my friends and be able to put a little door mat out on the porch like a normal person and invite people over for lemonade like a normal person, instead of living like a fucking nomad.

On top of making me homeless, my university has the audacity to tell me to get a Career and Professional Development loan which would cost me £280 per month to repay. (You have to repay the CPDL as soon as your course finishes.) Yet there is no guarantee I’ll have a job by then that can pay £280 on top of rent, bills, food, and my existing £240 per month debts. So, I’d just be worse off.

My university also has the audacity to tell me I shouldn’t work while doing my Masters because I should focus on my studies. If they didn’t bankrupt me I wouldn’t need to work while I study. I wouldn’t need to be homeless. That was their choice. I have to live in squalor while they have their champaign luncheon in their 5 * luxury, air-conditioned, leather-chaired, marble-floored meeting room.

I don’t know who to be more mad at: the universities or the government. I think they’re both as bad as each other.

Universities are earning so much excess money these days that they’ve become like encapsulated worlds, buying up every other building, engulfing neighbouring schools, colleges and office blocks, buying brand new technology for every department then throwing it all away 6 months later, spending thousands of self-congratulatory dinner parties, while their students starve and live in rat-infested closets with 5 other people like its Dharavi or Karachi, or some other god-awful dimension of hell.

Fast forward to today, I’m going through the process of throwing away 99% of my belongings. I won’t have anywhere to store anything at the hostel so I’ll just take a few essentials. I recall the words of an acquaintance I bumped into a few days earlier… “You’ll have to let me know where you’re living in London. I’ll come visit!” She was hugging me and excited about my big adventure. I just smiled and nodded. People don’t need to know I’m going to be homeless. They all think I’m heading to the big city to live an amazing life. I take down memories from shelves and throw them in the trash. A funny thought crosses my mind: “It’s almost like dying…”

I can only hope I’ll be reborn as a butterfly.

Trying To Get Ahead

Have you noticed how hard it is to get ahead in life? Not for all of us, of course, just some of us… :side-eyes:

Most of the people I know seem to be doing fine. Perhaps it’s a case of grass-is-greener syndrome but…

I know one woman who lives in a beautiful big house with lots of land and she doesn’t have to work and can spend all day brushing her hair because her boyfriend has a good job. She even had the opportunity to move abroad with him but turned it down. Because her life is so great that, well, it’s just too great and maybe she doesn’t want to overdose on the greatness by taking up such a great opportunity! We should all be so lucky!

Several people in my circle popped out kids to get boyfriend-and-welfare-money, they don’t work and live practically for free.

Some acquaintances of mine – younger than me (how dare they be younger than me!) – have mortgages, cars, families, constant emotional support, and seemingly endless amounts of cash (I need to find where they’re hiding those money trees…).

Other people I see are always getting promoted and are so popular and everyone loves them because they suck ass all day and tell people what they want to hear. They are always being given fantastic opportunities, some of which they turn down, because they can afford to.

I, however… and no, I’m not being self-pitying, just stating some facts… have had to work shitty jobs my entire life, never had a promotion, can’t afford to get a mortgage, can’t afford to buy a car, or any of the other perks that other people seem to have. I don’t understand where I’m going wrong?

I know, I know, I could’ve been born with no arms or legs, I should be grateful. But, y’know, when you look around and you see people living a certain way and you think… HOW!? How did you get that life? And why can’t I get that life? What is your secret?

We compare ourselves with the people we see around us, if they all have X, Y, Z, we feel we should also have X, Y, Z and… why don’t we? Then you start to panic and worry you’re getting left behind. And you wonder… why?! What am I doing wrong?!

Over the last two years, I’ve been trying to test fate and actually make something of my life. But, you know what? Everything I try just falls apart. My friends don’t have to fight for what they want, they just get it. I fight for it and still don’t get it.

I did teacher training but now that’s finished I’m jobless (school’s out for summer, Alice Cooper says so) and sleeping on someone’s sofa at the age of 30-something. I have no home, no car, no kids, no loving supportive boyfriend, my friends ignore me unless they want something, I’m stuck indoors all the time and rapidly incurring debt. I don’t understand where I’m going wrong!!! :frantically squeezes stress ball:

I know what you’re thinking: “You know what, Aliquo? Maybe you have a bad attitude…” You’re right, I do have a bad attitude! But, er, well, so does Donald Trump (god, I hate Donald Trump!) and people put him in charge of a country…, so…, y’know, I don’t think being Mary Poppins is necessarily going to change my situation.

Now, I really wanna do a Masters degree to improve my life prospects. But since I’m only going to do ONE Masters Degree in my life AND it’s 9 months I will never get back, I chose a Masters that would interest me, challenge me and hopefully be a good money earner. Unfortunately, it involves some maths, which I’m not very good at. And I am teetering on the edge of failing my application because I have to do a math aptitude test and I’m now on my third attempt of the damn math aptitude test.

I fear they’re gonna veto me at any moment, because they don’t want fail statistics – but, of course, they still want my money! So I fear they’re gonna drop me down onto the Retard Masters, “for simple people who can’t do stuff” :cries: I know I can learn this math stuff, if they just give me a chance! :toddler tantrum: but that chance seems to be slipping away.

I’m struggling to stay motivated on my third round of this damn test. Doubt is starting to creep in. Maybe everyone’s right about me… maybe I’m useless…

My whole life, people have said:

“No, you can’t do this”, “No, you can’t do that”, “That’s too hard for you,” “You’re stupid”, “We received stronger candidates”, “It was very competitive”, “You’re useless”, “You suck!”, “You’re not quite good enough”.

People say you gotta believe in yourself. But it’s actually kinda hard to believe in yourself when everyone’s telling you you’re not good enough. Sometimes we just need someone to believe in us, someone to say “You got this!” I wish someone would believe in me. Just once.

My Student is Still Hot

What? I ain’t blind!

So I saw my student again today – the hot one. Recap: He’s hot, I think he’s hot, wow he’s so hot.

He’s a mature student – don’t shoot me! And … And … and – wait I have more excuses… and, oh yes! And, he’s only going to be my student for a further two or three hours then weirdly I become his student. Cause he’s a trainee teacher and so am I… and I need tutoring……..

He can tutor me any time!

I actually just totally make excuses to be around this guy cause he makes me happy. Guys have never been anything but abusive to me so it’s kinda nice to be around a guy who is friendly and warm and makes me laugh – this is new to me.

But I’m not even dating my student or anything, he’s way too good looking…

My view is, if a guy is that good looking he’s either:
a) messed up in the head
b) married with kids
c)  a player
d) a vampire

I’m thinking c right now…or d….
I know you guys are gonna be like “What about gay…?” He ain’t gay, no way, no how. He is giving off way too many hetero vibes to be gay.

But see, I wouldn’t date him because:
a) he’s my student and my future teacher
b) he’s probably a player
c) I have plans! I ain’t p*ssing my dreams away for some guy. Been there, done that, learned the lesson: Ain’t no man worth p*ssing your dreams away for.

He sure is cute though – hot damn!

 

Hot Student Asked For My #

So remember I told you guys about that totally hot student I have? Here’s a brief recap: he’s hot but he’s my student BUT he is a grown ass man, and he’s hot, but he’s my student so I have to be professional.

So he came to see me the other day to tell me he wouldn’t be able to attend class (last class before half term break) and then he’s asking for my number so he could “get some academic support over the half term break”.

Now, look, this guy is hot as the Sahara desert in June and I’m a bug-eyed lil bish so I’m like…… he can’t seriously be attracted to me!… BUT his excuse is bs! And believe me, I’m usually the one to believe these bs excuses like, “Of course he only wants my number for academic support because I’m a bug-eyed lil bish” that would be my usual thought-process but it’s a bs excuse. Our next session is in 9 days and he has no assignments due over the break and us chicks kinda know when a guy wants something-something. Either he’s blind or I am.

And, damn, he has this white coat, and damn he looks so fly in that coat. And he funkin knows it too. Damn…

But that’s beside the point… obviously I said, “No, you can’t have my number… university policy… blah-de-blah” You know, even if he’d been a regular guy on the street rather than my student I still would’ve said no, cause he’s too damn hot. If a hot guy is asking for my number, something is wrong with him! It’s not like I’m funny or outgoing or have big tits or something to make up for looking like Gollum. So something is up! He’s probably a sado-masocist or a vampire or something.