I - Today's Event

Big event of the day was going to a job interview. I hate job
interviews. I felt stressed and headachey all day long. Have another
interview on Friday. I know I will feel stressed and headachey at least
until then. Aaaaaaarghhhhhhhh!!!!!!!

I wonder why I left my cosy office and my cosy job of five and a half
years, and the cosy money which now seems like a fortune whereas at the
time it never seemed enough. I remember R and know of course why I
moved and why I left and have no regrets. I love living here. I love
being in a house with a garden rather than a flat. I love R. I love
coming home to R. And I love living somewhere with community spirit,
out of the big smoke.

But I still hate interviews.

Am wondering how I can get a job without having an interview.
Mmmmmm.

Actually as interviews go, today's was ok. Might have managed to talk
myself into the job and talk them round into having me. Whether or not
I really want the job is another matter, but I can think of worse
things to do. So that probably came across and they'll think I don't
really want it after all and it all will have been a waste of time and
money and stress. Aaaarrrrghhhhhhhhh!!!

Tomorrow, thank whoever, I don't have to go to an interview. And
tomorrow, thank whoever, I don't have to go to work. I am going to go
swimming. I will cycle to the pool on the bike that I love and swim
long, slow, relaxing strokes. I need a new swimsuit; in patches mine is
wearing thin. Sometimes when I am supposed to be relaxing in the pool I
am worrying whether my suit is finally going to disintegrate and I will
emerge semi-clad. I am always worrying about something, you see.

But at least tomorrow there is no interview - phew!

Tomorrow I still have to do lots of horrible chasey-type phone calls.
The world is inefficient it seems. They never do anything when they say
they're going to and you have to chase them over and over again,
hanging on to customer service call centre lines and automated systems.
I may go mad eventually? there will be a new mental disorder caused by
hanging on to phone lines and gettting excess appalling customer
service. It may be named after me as I will expose it. I will be the
first to tip over the edge.

I have signed and posted forms to my solicitor. Complicated legal
jargon "bla bla bla" type forms. What is this world we live in? If I
really understood what I was signing, I would probably have to do a law
degree. I haven't got time. Got to sell my flat and move on. Actually I
have moved on, but the flat sits there empty, lifeless, waiting for the
next occupant. The post is redirected. Poor lonely letterbox.
Meanwhile, doormat is happily settled outside my new home covered in
the autumn leaves.