This is what I want to do (for now)

Monday was a shit of a day. I was tired from the start and I got that email saying that I wasn't being asked to interview for the job that I'm presently temping in. And it's the first week where I'm working 3 nights in the pub (Monday, Wednesday and Friday) so I was 'on a double' as the boys say. Between jobs I got a phone call from Reed to tell me that I have got an interview for a position they had put me forward for on Friday. It's next Tuesday, it's in Southampton. OK, so I don't like to travel, but this is an admin position (which I can do) for a scientific company (my selected specialist subject) and they are shortly moving to Holborn, which will be easy for me to get to esp if I move where I'm hoping to move to. Well anyway I can't think of a nicer person to welcome them to London than a native with a smile, a flair for science and a go get 'em (bad) attitude? Well, we'll see how it goes.

I'm tired again today, I put aside last night for a snuggle up in front of a film and an early night. All the best laid plans and all that, Mark taught me how to play Magic the Gathering (it's a card game with life points etc.) It's addictive, I mean it. It's worse than crack. We played a few games, then "one more game," leading to "one more game," once more "last one then we should go to bed." By this time it's 1:20 and my brain was screaming at me to get some sleep. but I still tidied around the sink and smoked a joint before finally giving in to sleep. I don't feel too bad now, but tonight's going to hurt.

I've noticed wholesome hobbies sneaking up on me, there was a time when the best I could do was 'socialising' and 'travelling' now I can say I like outdoor pursuits and entomology and I can back them up with things I've actually done.

Sorry Gerald

As I've said in previous posts the flat that I live in has vermin. Cockroaches and mice. The council have been called and much to Marks disapproval we now have poison out for both and glue traps for the roaches. Mark expressed concern about the glue traps when they were put out that a mouse might get stuck on one, I thought he was being ridiculous, until one did. Last night he spotted it on the glue trap next to the washing machine. I don't know how long it had been there, but a fair while if the amount of pooh was anything to go by. So I took it out side into the court yard, not wanting to hurt it or stress it any more than necessary but needing to get it off of the glue pad. I've got a wooden spoon that I'm trying to get underneath the body of it but its fur is stuck fast and I just can't do it. Another approach, I try to get its foot off by scraping the glue from the pad. Mark has brought a bit of bread for it and it is dutifully eating it but also taking a bite out of the wooden spoon every now and then. The poor thing was probably terrified. My hand slipped and I crushed both its back feet. Shit, well there's nothing for it now I have to kill it. I sent Mark away because he's as soft as shit and look around for something that will do the deed quickly. There's a cooker dumped about 50 yards away, living in a real shit hole has at least this advantage. So I take the mouse along to it telling him that I'm really sorry, but I can't do anything else and I'm justifying to my self that it's probably been poisoned anyway, I open the oven door try to position it so that it will....be quick and slam the door. Open it up again, shit I got the bottom half. Move it up a bit and slam! that time I got it, it can only have been a matter of seconds but it kept me awake most of the night. I feel horrible. When I got back up stairs Mark was crying so that started me off. What a fucking pair!

Anyway, here is my tribute to the mouse that I killed. I didn't want to do it, but I had no choice (yeah, tell that to the jury!). I hope it has found a better place with lots of crumbs and a nice warm nest.

Goodbye Gerald, or Mabel, whichever you were, I hope you've found peace.

Darwin Awards

I don't usually use these internet addages but OMG, if I ever saw a perfect candidate for a Darwin award it was the parent of two children on the green outside work at lunch time. Let me explain, there where two children, a toddler of about 18 months, maybe 2 years old and an older sibling about 3-4 years old. Now the younger one has a plastic cricket ball the older one has a wooden full size cricket bat. The younger one is trying to throw the ball so that the older one can hit it with the bat, but she's not throwing it hard enough and it's not reaching her brother. So the mother tells her to move closer to her brother. Can you see what's going to happen?
The younger one moves to within a metre of her brother and throws the ball as hard as she can, he swings the bat and clobbers his sister in the ribcage.

I really think there should be some kind of test that people have to go through before they are allowed to breed.

Applications and tarot cards

I applied for a job today. The one I'm currently employed in. I wont get it, I know I wont. I don't care enough about the work I've been given so I've been really half arsed thinking as a temp I'll be out of here soon anyway. 18 months + down the line I'm still here and they are looking for permanent staff-bugger. I love the place I work in-geographically it's perfect, walking distance, nice route, nice views, close to the pub job. The people I work with are (for the most part) lovely and there's a good social aspect. As it's City Hall it looks wonderful on my CV, but the work I'm given is tedious and finicky and, fuck me, dull as ditch water.

I hate form filling, but had resolved to make a great job of it and last night was set up to do just that, Mark was out for the evening, I had emailed the application pack and colleagues applications for the same job so I've got some guidance and sat down to 'kick this form in the balls.' Having done the easy bits-name, address, DOB... I decided to go for a smoke. Now let me explain the way you get into the flat that I live in: first there is a wrought iron gate that you need a chub key to get in, then there is the front door which is a modern uPVC one with a handle that you unlock with a yale key. Now you're in the building. The entrance to the flat also requires two keys, a chub lock on the first door leading to a space that is less than 1m square then a yale lock to get into the flat. Yes, I know that's a lot of locks. So I've got a notepad to jot down a few ideas, a cigarette, a lighter, yale door closes, no key to get through the chub door. So now both doors are locked and I have no key and, on closer inspection, I've also forgotten my pen. Ahhh well, it's 20:45 Mark said he'd be home before 22:30 so it can't be long till he's leaving anyway so I won't bother him. I smoke and wait. I search my pockets for something of use, finding my oyster card holder-I've been meaning to sort it out for a while so I remove all the old train tickets and travel cards (except the ones I want to keep for sentimental reasons) and absent mindedly start shuffling them. So now I'm sitting on a laminate floor surrounded by shoes and reading my travel cards (they predicted more London Loop walks and trips to Wales).

Wow. Matches! I'm not going to start playing with fire in a small space that I can't get out of, but if I strike a match and let it burn, it'll make charcoal and at least then I can doodle, so I do this with 8 matches and design an imaginary garden perfecting my use of a spent match as a pen as I go. Now it's about 22:00 Mark must be on his way home by now. I text him a cryptic text saying I'm in limbo without him and could he get me some chocolate-haven't had any dinner yet! At 22:20 I start calling him. No response. I get a call back at 22:35 telling me he's just left, I tell him to make haste as I'm stuck in the hallway, he wants to know why I didn't call him earlier "because I didn't want to spoil your evening" says I. It's true, I wouldn't have thought twice about it a few weeks ago but then, every thing's different now.

Thoughts of the application form have long left my head, I want food now (I didn't get my chocolate bar as Mark had no money) quick, easy, pasta it is.

So I completed the form in a rush this morning. In short it's a half arsed application for a job that I do half arsed everyday. If I get anywhere it will be a miracle. Maybe it'll help that I'm already here, that shouldn't make a difference but it's not what you know it's who you know in this life. Unfortunately I've just discovered the person that short lists the application forms is the only person here that seems to have a problem with me.

Should've gone to the pub instead.