Within the first hour of arriving at work I spilled some coffee on my nice white linen top. Never a good look, but worse because in the evening I had an interview for the BA in Creative Writing. I was in a meeting, so I couldn’t really rush out and rinse my top under the tap immediately as I should have liked. I began to feel very impatient with one of the meeting who said the same thing about six times in not very different ways.
And I am not exaggerating. Or at least not about the impatience.
When she finally decided that we had heard her opinion as much as we could take, the meeting ended and I shot off to the loo where fortunately the hand basin is also behind a locked door. The next hour was fairly damp, but the worst of the stain was gone.
At lunchtime, I left that place of work and set off to another of my jobs. Today was warm, and by the mid afternoon sunny with blue skies. Anyway, I had an enjoyable time at work and then just an hour to kill before my interview.
I was pretty relaxed, more relaxed than I have ever been previously before an interview. I had so little to go on and had not submitted an application form so I didn’t really know what was going to happen, but I did have some questions of my own to ask.
It turned out that the interviewers first question was the same as mine – why the BA? They were pretty convincing and I found myself increasingly keen on the idea. Then I asked another question. In one of the messages I received last week the fees were mentioned; someting over £6000. I asked if this was for the whole four years. the answer was in the negative. And the fees can increase. There was a short silence while I gulped and they looked slightly embarrassed.
Now this may come as a surprise to some of you, but I do not have limitless sums of money to draw upon, and six thousand quid a year represents a pretty large chunk of my income, and rather more than I am happy to part with without a great deal of reflection.
So, although I have until this evening to decide whether to accept the offer of the place they were kind enough to tell me they would make me, I feel it is unlikely I’ll be signing up. I can defer. Maybe I shall do that. Who knows, my premium bonds (all three of them) may yet come good and this time next year these fees may seem like loose change. Though somehow I doubt it.
It was nice to be told I was exactly the sort of student they wanted, and that obviously I take my writing seriously, though to be honest, I’m not sure what that means, but I think perhaps I don’t take it as seriously as £6000+ per annum.
Also, I am thinking of ditching the job where I threw coffee over myself, so I may be living on £6000 per annum at this rate. This is telling me that I am not prepared to starve in a garret (aka a second floor flat) for my art. My frivolous attitude has been outed.