Bearing in mind the
active weekend I've just had, I was amazed that I wasn't aching this
morning. Mind you, the word is that my grand-dog Fudge went home last
night and was absolutely shattered: he'd never been so quiet and
subdued. I think we might have got ourselves the job of wearing Fudge
out more often.
To work, where, after
having a weeks holiday, I found that I disagreed with the management.
They felt that I still had a week's leave to book before the end of
March. I wasn't quite so sure, but after a moment's reflection I
decided to agree with them, and promptly booked another week off.
And then on with the
business of the day. I was at work, so I did some. Not much; in fact
I probably did the bare minimum. There was a time when I would have
done far more. But times have changed.
Over lunch I spent half
an hour on the phone to one of the employment agencies about another
possible opening, and then heard about last week's interview.
Needless to say I didn't get the job. I'm told that I interviewed
well, but some of the other candidates had hands-on experience with
what the job was to be demonstrating. I must admit that I wasn't
expecting to get the job, bit it don't stop me being disappointed.
Mind you, there are always loads of other jobs I can apply for. And
having said that, I spent an hour this evening applying for more jobs
to prove (or disprove) the point.
And then once I felt
"applied out" I spent some time doing on-line
surveys. I've now got twenty quid in Tesco vouchers. I might buy some
new trousers. Ones that aren't six inches too big round the waist...
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