Having joined the ranks of students who have been in some way, be it small or large, fucked over by the University of Manchester, this afternoon I attempted one final, last-ditch effort to restore my good mood with a bout of badly needed shopping therapy.
Shopping therapy works wonders. The biggest drawback is that the effect is so short-lived. When I came home $100 poorer but sporting 2 new pairs of jeans, a jazzy blue striped blouse, and a seriously sexy black leather jacket, I felt a lot better. For about an hour. But I can't afford another hit yet. Maybe I'll go sniff the leather to hold me over.