March on, march on

I have - given that the local train line is closed for engineering works - bought myself a coach ticket to London for the Brexit march on Saturday. Words can scarcely express how much I do not want to do this. I am getting myself there on the combination that I will feel guilty all day and long after if I don't, and that I will (hopefully) meet up with friends I haven't seen in a while to see myself through it. But I really wish I didn't have to. It's a minor hardship compared to what many people are going through with this complete mess, but it shouldn't be happening at all. I am beyond furious with the whole thing.

Fuck knows what is going to happen in parliament in the next 48 hours.

If there's one thing that tells you how cut-throat academia is, it is that my employer has people who have moved here from continental Europe to start work within the past 3 weeks. Because when it comes to the risk of Brexit vs never getting that job chance again, the job wins.