London - Week Eight

I think I'm finished panicking. With the US dollar at 26-year low against the pound just in time for me to pay tuition, and the British banks leading the world's Impenetrable Fortress Club, I slipped into a bout of ill-advised hysteria this week.

Finances have a way of doing that to me, one moment I'm a calm and rational human being, the next I'm the psychological equivalent of a cat in a car wash. But I'm fine now. Not because I've somehow figured out the secret password for cashing checks abroad, just suddenly my brain has flipped into cognitive reasoning mode again.

The next thing on the mania menu is finding a new flat. I love my current place, but it's time to move on down the road. It's a mysterious balance to be achieved when living in London, the cheaper flats are found further away from the center of town, but you also end up paying a prosthetic limb in tube fare.

Come to think of it, the one word that everyone used to describe the city to me before I arrived was "expensive." In fact, I got so tired of hearing about it, I wanted people to tell me other horrible things, just for some variety. Is it worth it? Well, it's not exactly the right time to ask me that question, but there are a lot of people in London who eke it out, so there must be something to make it all worthwhile.