Friday, March 03, 2006

Put uncertainty on a job application

It's another day of slogging my guts out on the job search. When you're looking for a new job, there's always the feeling of some exciting unknown future that awaits, but along the way, the wait is as excruciating as being held up in Newark airport for 5 hours and menial jobs like sweeping floors and serving coffee suddenly take on a new appeal. Why? In a moment of self-determination (ie I can go out there and get work), I applied at Cafe Nero. I don't know why. I haven't received any phone calls and the place stinks of chessy jazz, European students, men in suits and the general Hove ilk who all seem to have nothing better to do in the middle of the day. On a positive note, I've been getting lots of encouraging emails about the book. My mom is apparently buying the whole stock. I don't know what I'll do in 20 years time when I find she has 50 of them. She says she's saving them. On a not-so-positive note, my only-child tantrums have reached a critical point and my boyfriend has reached breaking point with it all. What he calls verbal diarrhea is what I thought was my effort to communicate. It didn't comfort him when I told him it was all probably due to hormones. You thought he'd be happy that my period started. I've been reading all sorts of crap about self-acceptance. It seems like a good thing to do once you've past the 30 mark and you realise you're stuck with what you've got: you. Wholly loveable and imperfect, despite the packaging and health warnings that are stuck all over you like you're some building site where they've discovered secret nuclear waste. current mood: confused current song: the sound of my computer dying, but Morissey is playing next door (could it get any worse?)


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