I had loads planned for the rest of the morning. A lawn to mow, a pond to overhaul, a yard to tidy, a bike shed to rebuild, a load of catalogues to deliver. But the rain started hammering down and so all plans were off. The other day I'd bought the makings of some beer for an upcoming camp, so I started the beer going. But that was all that I had planned for the day.
With nothing else on the agenda for today I re-wrote that C.V. and put the revised version onto several agencies' web sites I wasted the rest of the morning applying for dozens more jobs that I (realistically) will never hear back from. If any of my loyal readers know of any job opportunities, please don't hesitate to let me know: I'm interested in absolutely anything.
Over the course of the morning both fruits of my loin came visiting. The first fruit came home - he'd been up to the school as littlun had been in a minor accident, which turned out to be a load of fuss over nothing, but was a cause for worry at the time. And then the most recent fruit came home for want of any better offer (as far as I could determine). Sid was with her, and he spent the day farting. Much as I love that dog, he does stink. If ever a dog needed charcoal biscuits, it's that one.
To pass the time I ironed a load of shirts, and then spent a large part of the afternoon on the phone. I had four different people who could barely speak English phone me on the pretext of conducting consumer research only to try to sell me things. Having revised my C.V. yet again and put it on the Internet I'd asked one of the agencies for a "free and impartial evaluation" of that C.V.. The trouble with evaluations of C.V.s is that everyone has a different opinion. I was told that my latest C.V. is inconsistent and not pitched at the right level. Whatever that means. When I asked what that meant I was offered the opportunity of having the thing professionally written for a bargain price of two hundred quid(!) I was somewhat reticent about that idea, and as a sweetener the nice lady kept on about how for that two hundred quid I would have a consultation which would "help me discover my transferable skills and evidence them". If any of my loyal readers know where any of my discoverable skills might be lurking, could they return them; preferably together with a note of evidence.
And then one of the agencies phoned with a possible vacancy that might suit me. From the way the nice lady spoke, I somehow doubt it, but hope springs eternal. And then I got a rather aggressive phone call from a double glazing firm who'd picked up my C.V. from the Internet and seemed quite angry that I wasn't available immediately to sell windows for them.
In between phone calls I got on with the novel I'm writing. It's now over three thousand words long. Still lacking quite a bit in the plot department, but it's slowly getting somewhere. I'm not quite sure where, but it's getting somewhere.
By the time the phone stopped ringing it was gone 5pm. the rain had stopped, but any urge to go out and to get on with the day's original plans had long since subsided. So I watched Harry Enfield on the telly with the most recent fruit of my loin whilst Sid scattered his food all over the kitchen floor. And the most recent fruit then went off on her mission, leaving me dog-sitting. My beloved phoned with instructions for my to start boiling up some dinner, so I boiled up dinner. And as my beloved came home so we scoffed our dinner. And Sid slept. It was quite nice having dinner with a dog present without the dog constantly scrounging.
Being Tuesday the clans gathered - tonight at the Chrisery for another episode of "Being Human". I do like that show...