Fragments

For the final papers to get into my new university I needed a certified copy of my university degree. I tried showing them my actual degree, but they said that that wouldn’t do; as they wouldn’t accept that as it could get them into trouble if they lost it. So I said, well I’ve shown you my original copy, can I just let you photocopy it and then you have a copy? No, it needed to be certified. Okay, I asked, so how do I certify it? Well, only the university can certify it.

So I contacted my old university. They said they would send me a copy. Then they told me they couldn’t two days later. They apparently didn’t have a copy of my degree on file. I had graduated too long ago. So how do I get a certified copy from you when I have the only real copy? Well, you need to come here. I wish I could at this point admit that I lambasted them with a clever retort and they visibly cringed, but I did it over e-mail, so I couldn’t see them, besides I’m not all that brave (After all I still needed that certified copy). Instead the strongest word I used was ‘inconvenient’.

It took all of five minutes, once I was there. Getting there and back cost me a grand total of three hours. Three hours and five minutes for a stamp and a signature, not bad for a bureaucratic process – but still pissingly annoying on a personal scale. No wonder people can only work such short weeks here, they need the rest of the time to deal with the red tape and the paper pushers!

Tomorrow I’m definitely moving into my new house (I hope) the greatest obstacle currently in my way is not having a bicycle. In the centre of Amsterdam you don’t need a bicycle (it’s handy, but it’s not necessary). So far I’ve survived without a bicycle for two reasons. Walking worked and I already had my feet and hadn’t yet bought a bicycle. Now one of those reasons falls away. Walking will no longer work, as the bicycle ride to and from the ferry will already take 10 minutes, so the walk would be at least twice as long. I’m not that rich in time.

I might have lost my poetry book. I possibly left it on the train. The idea of thousands of good ideas disappear into the world of the lost and found is quite agonising. I do have a lot of final or near final copies of the poems on my laptop, but it wasn’t just the end results that were in that poetry book, it was the actual process. How I got there.

Hopefully the book will shop up somewhere during the move tomorrow. Otherwise I’ll have to contact the central NS office in Utrecht. Fortunately the title of the book is unusual (brutally honest, might be a better way to describe it). What’s more, I doubt anybody else will really be interested in what the book contains. It’s a treasure for me, but nothing more than an oddity for another.

Let’s hope it comes back because it’s probably one of my most treasured possessions.