No news is not good news...

I didn't get the job...they liked me. But an internal candidate was 'exceptional'.

Never mind, I was enthusiastic and nice, and I think if I bumped in to them again or applied for something else I'd have a good chance.

But still... what a shame.

p.s. They left it until 9.35am to ring me, which is most certainly the rejection call.

Not so good...and good

I don't think I was the 'right person or type'. Either that or actually not having enough recent experience - not sure 20 years ago counts ruled me out.

Gutted.

Not that I've actually had a phone call this evening, but you know, if you don't get one on the same day it is all bad. Letter will be in the post no doubt.

Woe is me, this is only the second interview I've had and not got the job. First one was a couple of years ago down here and I did try and take my breast feeding baby on my lap. I guess that put them off, also apparently I did not have enough experience either.
You'd think at 36 I'd have enough.

Oh and in other news we went to see Joseph tonight, courtesy of the local paper and VIP tickets. It was fantastic, and we even got Craig Chambers signature. Free champagne too. Lovely. The children were entranced, and they even did a little sing a along bit at the end.

It's a Big Week here...

Lovely M has a new job! And it is walkable, and he may or may not be able to ditch the ties (we think may not as its a promotion but you never know).

So that is fantastic.

And tomorrow I am venturing out of the house, away from the laundry, and cleaning and um, internet to go and see some people about doing something for money. I'm unclear as to whether I'm the right person for the job yet, or in fact whether I can squeeze the job in to the mornings. Also unclear, terribly so on what to wear. Sadly all decent clothes are/were a size 12/14 from days when I was thinner and richer and did Working for a Living alongside frequent Shopping at Bluewater trips. Interview choices are limited to slightly mumsy linen skirt, beige sort of colour but good shape - those who know me will know the one as I wear it about every other day, and charcoal slightly pin striped skirt. The right shoes, i.e. ones which I can walk in go best with linen, but then again maybe heels...Oh God, maybe I should go back to bare feet in the kitchen.

Wish me luck...

It's the Wrong Time Again...

I was reading yesterday that until 1840, at least the UK had its own different times. Exeter was twenty minutes behind London and so on, and if you needed to catch a train you needed to know many times. This is how I feel at this time of year, and of course spring. I just don't know where I am.

Yesterday when I got up, Mat had changed all the clocks to New Time, but we had breakfast later/early and had a really really long day. Then we stayed up to New Time of ten o'clock, which made me feel really tired (blame Friday night for that though) and woke up some Silly Hour this morning with one child in bed and one wandering around our room. Managed to get Wanderer to Go Away as told him I simply can't sleep with someone looking at me and not sitting down. Other one, unfortunately had a bell in her teddy that she kept fidgeting with.

And now we're all up, it's officially a Holiday in tattyhouse (half term), awake, worrying about what pants to wear, and arguing. Happy Holidays.

A drunken confession and a mistake...

Had a lovely girls night out last night, slightly changed by the arrival of two men 'husbands' if you like but do think we kept our men are bad rants at a limit due to their company. Very funny men, one does a drawing club, and other used to work for a famous magazine I've loved since university days for its top tips. Trouble is, then I just had to tell anyone about my secret top tip writing pastime and my delight when an odd twenty quid drops through my door for another one of my masterpieces of advice. (Why let rain trouble your washday, simply hang your wet clothes over your banisters and hey ho, an indoor line!) etc. etc.

Then I got ultra confused about who is a feminist, and who lives in Hastings, and who was accused of wearing fuck me shoes by Germaine Greer. I was insisting it was Kathryn Flett, even though others who had seen her/know her etc were sure it seemed unlikely. Woke up after a troubled night sleep with a disturbing dream in which Mat bought me a mouse as a present, without a cage, which weed everywhere until I fashioned a shoe box home and remembered it was not her. It was Suzanne Moore, who is of course, quite different. Ooops. Sorry ladies.

Must go out more often, although possibly not do talking as much. Also managed to tell pub landlord (again) how proud I was of myself for not mentioning that he was the Science Man from a show in Butlins spitting image, whilst telling him.

Actually it is not so bad...

...and I really am going to stop bloggin for a bit. Amazingly the house was tidier, more craft projects were undertaken whilst not blogging. And more importantly I got out more - even in the cold.

There is a wolf at the door...

Weirdest weekend, I've had a front (ish) tooth out, got a bad cold, got a terrible period and have lost all confidence to smile. Plus, weirdly, or maybe not, given that list I've been sleeping really badly and keep getting a bit of a temperature during the night.

The loss of confidence, in being well, attractive has been the worst, possibly I've never felt this bad about myself again, and don't want to go out ever again. To be honest I'm fine if I don't smile - but if I do then there is a gaping hole - kinda like an Amy W but one tooth back. And usually I smile quite a lot, and laugh but that is all over now.

Then I've been worrying about fixing my tooth - basically I can't have a bridge as it'll ruin two other teeth and give me false teeth in ten years or so (reading between the lines this is so...). I could have an implant but they are between two and four grand. And guess what, that is where this frugal living stuff is not funny, not funny at all. Bank loans put to one side, and that is probably where they will stay, unless that is I sell my soul up the river, never see my children and get a Proper Long Houred Job. Of course there is Saving. But this would mean teeth before wonky chimney that could crash through living room and ruin my floors/us.

Then last night, to cap it all off, I had this dream. I was running through my old junior school, next to my parents house when a wolf appeared and started chasing me. I thought I'd cleverly got away by running in to their house when, oh no, the wolf followed me. Luckily there were those horizontal steel bars that stop motorbikes and horses going down footpath's inside the hall, so the wolf was slowed down. Then I had a big flap, pretty much like how I was when the Giant Raven was sidling up to Ollie to eat him/attack him at the Tower of London and simply did not know what to do*. My dad saved me by chasing the wolf out the door.

What does that mean? Very Joseph and the amazing though.

*Lovely Claire saved Ollie by doing, and thinking of the right thing and shooing the Raven away. Thanks Claire.