Wednesday, 4 November 2009

Oh dear

Today, I filled in two more application forms (42 jobs and counting), I've set up search strings so that the NHS website will tell me about jobs.

I prepared for my interview tomorrow by logging on to the website and freaking out at all the information.

The job is Team Administrator LNW (S).

Nope. No idea.

And will the website let me see what I wrote?

Nope. The entire online form disappeared into the electronic ether as soon as I pressed "SUBMIT".


I went to get my haircut today as well. I've got to save the pennies so it was the College Salon.

The very young sulky faced girl was very unsure of herself and very hesitant. She partitioned off the back of my head did a few snips and then called the Supervisor over.

The Supervisor finished graduating into the nape of my neck and showed her little protege how to avoid the side "horns" that would have grown around the sides. The Supervisor left us to it after criticising the state of the scissors.

Then Student started on the sides. Without starting a central guide, she set about cutting the left side of my head. Again, very hesitantly.

She called the Supervisor over again. The Supervisor started off at the centre and couldn't see where the girl had started from.

She was very rough with the comb and painfully scraped it over my ear repeatedly. Again, the Supervisor graduated the cut and tapered it off down my left side.

She left us again, warning the girl to remember the head dips down at the front and my hair was very heavy down there.

This happened over and over again. Young girl making a few desultory cuts and calling the Supervisor over. Supervisor finishing the cutting and walking away instead of standing over the girl.

ONE AND A HALF HOURS after I came in for a quick wash, cut and blow dry, the student was blow drying my hair. Again, very hesitantly.

She was using a slim ,round, spiky brush to style my hair under the dryer and by the time she finished, I looked like Jim Carrey from Dumb and Dumber. It was a total pudding bowl job.

I paid the £15 and hoped the wind and the rain would do something flattering.

By the time I got home and my hair had dried, I was starting to look like the strange, red haired woman trying to be Miranda, from the Dulcoease ad trying to look like Sex and the City.

With some styling wax, I could see what the Supervisor was aiming at. A kind of short elfin cut.

Kind of.