I did two good things today. I was walking through the park and saw two women taking turns to stand in a patch of daffodils while the other took a photo. I waved them down and asked if they wanted me to take a photo of both of them. They were delighted.

I went to the computer lab after hours and found a wallet on the table. I flipped it open and discovered that its owner was one of my classmates, so I called her. She was very happy to get it back.

I have not ridden my bike for six days. I’m trying to slow down and enjoy life a bit more. I’ve been feeling stressed and unhappy for the past few weeks.

Yesterday, we went into London to present our project to the client. We’ve been working with an architecture firm on a renewable technologies toolkit for the past six weeks. The presentation went well and afterward, they took us to dinner. The food was from southern India and was delicious. But now I feel like I won’t need to eat for a week.

Because I’ve been avoiding doing laundry, I had an especially large batch to do today. I think I must have overloaded the washer because when I came back to check, the wash cycles were done but the clothes were still saturated with water. I put them through the dryer for longer than usual but the 70 p was wasted because the dryer didn’t dry the clothes at all.

In the end, I lugged the waterlogged clothes back home (stopping about twelve times to rest), then spent half an hour in the bathroom squeezing out the excess water. The skin on my left thumb has been worn away. I guess the wringing took some of the skin off. It hurts when I put on gloves to wash the dishes.

“I bought a bike lock a few months ago,” I announced. “Not here, somewhere else. Anyway, it rusted shut yesterday. Could you sell me a lock that won’t do that?”

The bike store man blinked. “I don’t know any lock that won’t do that. Things rust. If you don’t want something to rust, you have to oil it.”

“Oh…….” I was properly chastised. “Erm. What kind of oil?”

“Any lubricant for moving parts,” he explained, slowly, for all the stupid people in the room.

“Do you, ah, sell oil here?”

“Yes.” He pointed to a large white plastic bottle. “It’s £2.”

“Well, I’ll have one of those.”

He took the bottle off the shelf and my £2 coin to the cash register. I hovered around uselessly.

“Would you like me to open it for you?” he offered kindly.

“Ah, thanks.”

He snipped off the lid and handed it over to me. “Careful,” he cautioned. “The bottle is open now.”

Such kindness to the stupid children of Cambridge University.

I did my budget a few weeks ago and was horrified at how much money I was spending.

Luckily, my parents sent me some pairs of socks in the mail.

Before that, socks were the limiting factor in my laundry cycle. I had to do my laundry every week so that I wouldn’t run out of socks. Now, with three new pairs of socks, I have doubled my laundry cycle to two weeks! This has lead to a saving of £44.20 a year (A$110 or two textbooks)!

It’s a fragile balance, this two week laundry cycle. I have just the right number of socks to go to the laundry with a very full load. But now, I’m terrified of losing even a single sock. I’ve lost one already, which made its partner completely redundant. If I lose another, then I will have to revert back to a one week laundry cycle.

Every year, maybe ten or so colleges at Cambridge hold May Balls (which happen in June — a list here). The aim seems to be to throw as lavish and decadant party as possible. You pay between £75 and £175 (A$190-440) for a night of: eating seafood and other yumminess; drinking champagne and cocktails; watching fireworks; lounging in chauffered punts; listening to live jazz, rock and classical music; play at the casino, rifle range and on funfair rides; relaxing with masseurs; applauding roving stilt walkers, fire breathers and magicians; and finishing up with formal breakfast.

Tickets are on sale now. Although pricey, I would normally be inclined to go. May Balls are such an iconic Cambridge experience. The problem is, though, I’ve been studying and cooking so much that I have no friends. Without friends, it would not be fun, regardless of how amazing the spectacle. So, alas, Cinderjoan will stay at home, reading her textbook in front of the ashes of the fireplace.

The dress code at the Magdalene May Ball website simultaneously horrified me and made me envious. The event is white tie, “the most formal dress code that exists for civilians today in the United Kingdom.” The May Ball committee is relentlessly specific.

Formal evening dress is more strictly regulated than other forms of dress, and consists of the following:

• Black tailcoat with silk (ribbed or satin) facings, sharply cut-away at the front.
• Matching black trousers trimmed by braid or satin on the outside for each trouser leg….

And it goes on for three pages, describing shoes, socks, shirt studs, gloves, top hat, opera cape, and so on.

They are more restrained with the dress code for ladies, asking only for full length ball gown, stole or cape, jewelery, a clutch bag, and “Gloves — (optional) if worn, should be opera length (over the elbow, reaching to the biceps.)”

I thought that I’d never have the opportunity to dress like that in my whole life. I thought only princesses could wear full length ballgowns. I’m starting to feel the opportunity lost.