Where were you before now? Stand up comedy indeed. You haven't seen me in the flesh have you?
Actually, stand up is one of my sneaking fantasies. I've got vague ideas for a routine but no bottle.
The feedback came through for the Wolverhampton City Council post - apparently my time management skills are not all that. I got 45 marks out of a possible 60 and all I needed was 3 more marks to get an interview. 75% instead of 80%. Oh, well, that's ok then.
I've met the sales managers in my office. Boot Face and Bob. Boot Face is female (only just) and really does look like she's been hit with a sack of spanners. Her look is not improved by her make up (stuck in the '60s with frosted lipstick) or her Lady Macbeth demeanor.
Bob is fairly boot faced herself with an extraordinary bobbed hairstyle which requires the kind of care she doesn't seem to have time to give it. Thick, grey, wavy hair which has a mind of its own, it should be blow dried and sleek. It isn't.
Bob is helpless at spelling and so, sensibly, doesn't try to do any of the word processing herself. She just leaves it to someone else to decypher the pencilled scribblings.
Mondays and Tuesdays are "office days". For the rest of the week Boot Face and Bob run around the different building sites with updates and stationery orders. They manage/check up on the poor sods who are stuck in the marketing suites and show homes trying to sell 'cookie cutter' houses to passing punters.
The trouble is there aren't that many passing punters. Sales at one site are so slow that there's talk of special discounts and incentives. The incentives are usually carpets and flooring. Having seen the carpet samples in the stationery cupboard I wouldn't call that much of an incentive.
I've got an interview for a part time data entry position for an environmental charity. Oooooh. Again, I'm not holding my breath but there you go.
I've applied for an part time NHS position and....and.....and actually, I've forgotten what else I've applied for. I've sent a barrel load of on-line applications and two postal applications. I can't remember what for. Brilliant.
I was 39 last Saturday. I got a text message from Brook Street. While it's nice of them to remember me, I wish they would get their fingers out and find work for me. I got a text from Kid Brother and a phone call from Middle Brother. I rang Dad. He forgot.
I had an eye test. I got an eye test as I realised my backache from the Data Entry job was caused by me leaning towards the fixed computer screen to try and see the print. I also went to the cinema and found the two foot high letters a bit fuzzy around the edges until I moved back a few rows. And guess what?
!I NEED GLASSES!
From today I'll be a speccy four eyes. I have a drastic astigmatism in both eyes. Right now it's just the one pair but within a few years I'll need two pairs of glasses. I'll be one of those annoying people who need walking around/driving/distance glasses and reading/close up glasses. And I'll never have the right pair on me when I need them.
One of my many problems is that I've spent the last 20 years of my working life in jeans and a shirt. With the added bonus of flat sensible shoes with or without steel toecaps and socks. After that, It's hard getting to grips with unnatural fibres, slips, tights, roll-ons, no pockets, handbags and the general girly stuff that Trinny and Susannah normally bug on about.
I was given a bit of money at Christmas which I blew on "office" clothes. The trouble is I've now lost enough weight for a lot of all my clothes - the old and recently acquired - not to fit. For the jeans, that's not too big a problem (just tie the belt a bit tighter) but for the new, smarter clothes it's a real pain. No belts mean the skirts are starting to fall off me. Bargain.
I am definitely eating less through a combination of less boredom and less money. I am meeting new people, I am making fewer impulse purchases, I'm not being driven crazy by the same people doing and saying the the same things day after day, I'm simply not as miserable and I just don't have the opportunity to overeat as I did before.
I'm still a member of a gym. I wasn't able to get out of the contracted terms and conditions I've signed. I haven't been for months though. That was an almighty waste of money. But what if you could do this on the treadmills? I'd go more often.