Bearing in mind how
glorious it was last Sunday, I woke this morning with all sorts of
plans for what we might do with the day. So much for my plans. Whilst
the rain wasn't actually torrential, it was certainly bad enough to
put the kibosh on any plans which involved going out of the house
this morning.
So over brekkie I spent a
few minutes playing on-line scrabble, then spent more time job
hunting. Only a couple of hours today. Will anything come of it? I
must admit I'm becoming rather disillusioned about the whole "change
of career" idea. I've been applying for so many jobs for so
long, and so far there's been very little to show for my efforts. I
don''t actually dislike my job, and I work with a really good bunch
of people. But there's no denying that I spend most of every day
absolutely bored rigid.
Mind you, I did get cross
with some of the web sites I used for applications today. Why do web
site designers think that it's worth having all sorts of bells and
whistles on a web site when all that they do is make a web page take
five minutes to load when a plain text version would achieve the same
result in five seconds.
We still had some
catalogues to collect, so despite the rain we set off round the local
roads to see if anyone wanted to buy our wares. One or two people
were up for a bargain. Not as many as I would have hoped, but more
than I might have expected. We came home and dried off, and I sold
another painting - that makes five in total. And then I got my paints
out and did some more painting. Badger
Original Landscapes has developed two more bespoke lines. I now
do mini canvases on easels; small paintings which are five inches by
seven inches. Or seven inches by five inches, depending on the
customer's preference. And the second line is something rather unique
- "Tardis-scapes". "Tardis-scapes"
will be just like any other landscape, but with a Tardis in there
somewhere. I'm hoping to cash in on the sci-fi enthusiast market. I'm
not entirely happy with how the first one has turned out, but then I
am rarely happy with how any of my paintings ever turn out.
And then I went to the
loo for the umpteenth time. I'm not blaming Friday's chilli or
yesterday's fry-up. But something has upset my guts. The rumbling can
be heard a hundred yards away, and the flappy-woof-woofs are quite
rancid. I wonder what has caused the gastric distress - I wish I knew
because I wouldn't eat whatever it was again...
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