The end is near…

The budget for the temp has run out and from tomorrow I will once again be jobless

I love gossip

Annabanana filled me in on the lates goingson with my former colleagues including the verification of a long suspected love triangle resulting in the break up of a marriage. I never thought it would happen – but I’m not that surprised that it has.

the last weekend in August

For many people August Bank Holiday Monday means a chance to jet away for one final weekend of fun in the sun before winter sets in. But, for a good proportion of London the August bank holiday means only one thing: Carnival – The Notting Hill Carnival to be exact.

This year it was mostly cold and often threatened to rain, and didn't seem to have as big a turn out as normal - probably due to the unusual lack of publicity this year.

There were some great floats and costumes and there were also some really shit ones. The recent influx of Brazilians to London prompted the emergence of several Samba Schools complete with scantily clad nymphets shaking their asses round the route.

feedback

I didn't get the job. I don't think it was quite right for me anyway.

They sent me really good feedback though and if I'd had more experience in key areas they would have hired me. But, as always there was someone else who had all the relevant experience and they therefore won't have to train. I can't balme them really.

C'est la vie.

how it went

I hate interviews. I hate wearing suits. They were nice. It went well. They have more people to see. I’ll know tonight.

…not sure if I actually want it.

Good news - Bad news

Good news: I have an interview from last weeks rushed job aplication.

Bad News: It's tomorrow. I have virtualy no time to prepare and I loose out on half a days pay at my temp job.

The Ritual

You go into your handbag looking for something (lets say a chap stick). It’s small so obviously it will be right at the bottom - you pull all the big stuff out, the purse, MP3 player, umbrella, letters you forgot to post, the hand lotion your never use and o on until you are left with the small stuff - the tissues, scraps of paper and old till receipts, lipstick the pens and the dead batteries until you get to the debris at the very bottom - the hairpins, lone sticks of chewing gum and the old and the packet of silica you never got around to throwing away.

By now you have an empty handbag, except for the dust, fluff and crumbs, which you tip out over your waste paper basket.

Now with a newly emptied and much cleaner bag you remember that this spring clean started with a purpose – but you’ll be damned if you can remember what that is. So you start loading everything back into your bag in some semblance of order so that when you eventually remember what you wanted in the first place you’ll actually be able to find it.

an end to temping?

I got a call from my temp agency on Wednesday afternoon. They wanted me to apply for an extremely good job they had. The only drawback – applications needed to be in by Friday and they needed one of those stupid supporting statements to go with my cv. Agency lady said I needed about 2 pages of waffle about how my previous work experience related to the job spec.

Obviously there was no way I could get this done on Wednesday night, because I had to watch Jane Hall and bitch about the ridiculously short deadline I’d been given.
Thursday was my only opportunity to get the stupid statement done but it had to be ready before 5 and agency lady needed to proof read it first.

Could I do it over my lunch hour? No! lunch hour is for eating and taking a walk, so the only option was to sneakily do it in the afternoon instead of working.
Oh me oh, my, lucky I didn’t actually have any real work to do.

Twisted Sister

I bumped into Nemesis on the Bakerloo line platform at Oxford Circus on the way home. We chatted all the way home at some point the conversation turned to ‘Who would you give a kidney to if they needed it’. Of course we’d donate one to our mother, we both agreed on that, but would we give one to each other?

Neither of us brought that one up, for fear of the answer. I mean if I gave her a kidney she’s have to start treating me nicer and if I gave one to her – well that would be admitting I actually did love her, which I’m not sure I actually do. We don’t like each other most of the time, it’s one of the few things we both agree on. But do we love each other? Are the sisterly bonds of blood strong enough that we would risk our lives for each other?

I really don’t know. It’s a question that could only be answered if the situation arose. I pray to god that it never will.

Hopefuly it's just

Au reviour to Universal Soilder

Saturday Night's Alright

I got very very drunk on Saturday night. Have you ever been on the tube while really really pissed? It's not fun.
I stood by the door desperatly counting stops and trying very hard not to vomit.

It's gonna taste great

The song from the Frosties advert has been stuck in my head for the last hour and a half. Insanity looms.