Ancrene Wiseass

A would-be medievalist holds forth on academia, teaching, gender politics, blogging, pop culture, critters, and whatever else comes her way.

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Location: United States

Yes, this really is yet another blog by a disillusioned grad student. I sympathize, but that's just the way it has to be. For hints as to what my bizarre alias means, click here and here and, if needed, here and here. To get a sense of what I'm up to, feel free to check out the sections called "Toward a Wiseass Creed" and "Showings: Some Introductory Wiseassery" in my main blog's left-hand sidebar. Please be aware that spamming, harassing, or otherwise obnoxious comments will be deleted and traced.

Sunday, May 29, 2005

More news from Ireland

It just keeps coming. I got a letter in the mail from the bank I used in Ireland telling me that my account there has been overdrawn "in recent months." They give no details. The letter just says that I owe unspecified amounts in overdraft charges and I am shaking all over with both terror and anger because:
1) I have no idea whether this is a matter of 15 Euro or 1,500 Euro
2) I have no way of getting hold of anyone until at least Monday
3) I tried really, really hard to secure this damn account after the whole Diesel Boy burglary fiasco and was reassured everything was okay, but now I think it probably wasn't all along and
4) I'm absolutely sure that there's no reason for this account to be overdrawn at all, since I haven't used it since December.

Some really lovely friends had me over to their place for dinner tonight and made steaks and all manner of gorgeous things to go with it, and I was actually able to eat a real meal for the first time in days. Now I'm afraid I'm going to retch it up, I'm so upset.

The only reason I kept the account open was that I was marrying Stan and thought it might be useful to have it available there when we were visiting or in case we ended up living there, since it can take a very long time for a foreigner to establish an account in Ireland. I just wish I knew the enormity of this particular punch line.

I don't know how to cope right now. God, I wish I'd waited until morning to open that damn letter. At least then I'd be able to talk to somebody. Now I just get to stare up at the ceiling, wondering how much money the bank will say I owe them.