raining
Okay, so now the dust has settled, the travelling is over, the real test begins, exactly what do we write on this website?
Without a baby to take reams of photos of, without travelling tales, it seems only a matter of time before we have to resort to that staple of blog sites around the world - the list of unconnected thoughts and observations.
The unemployed days are beginning to drag somewhat. After a slow start, Ms Love has raced ahead in the job interview stakes - now with seemingly too many second interviews to fit in first interviews. My solitary appointment - for the rest of my life it seems, the diary is free from tomorrow onwards till 2072 - at 12pm today was cancelled because the idiot was sick. Or at least that's what his PA told me.
Much of the time is spent listening on the phone whilst yet another recruitment idiot tells you he's got a role... it's a bit different... but I thought I'd run it past you. Before you can get an objection in, he's launched into a long description about how the company in question want a self starter, someone who will really question things, someone to take things forward la de da de da. Eventually you get a word in edgeways and manage to find out that the role is actually based in Southampton and doing the polar opposite of what you've told the recruitment idiot, and their beloved database, you want to do. Goodbye Gracie..
The only other news, besides the fact that it rained all day today, is that someone appears to have abandoned their car in our (well, the Etchell's) parking space. It's been there all week, the tax disc is expired and one wheel is very rusty. The only logical conclusion is that it's been dumped by secret agents. Eager to do our bit in the war against terrorism we're about to inform the police. First things first though, and in true suburban busybody style, we've (okay, okay, there is no we here, Ms Love isn't quite as outraged as me) typed a notice to put at the foot of the stairs asking if anyone in the other flats knows anything. I'm hoping there is a huge reward at the end of all this..
Without a baby to take reams of photos of, without travelling tales, it seems only a matter of time before we have to resort to that staple of blog sites around the world - the list of unconnected thoughts and observations.
The unemployed days are beginning to drag somewhat. After a slow start, Ms Love has raced ahead in the job interview stakes - now with seemingly too many second interviews to fit in first interviews. My solitary appointment - for the rest of my life it seems, the diary is free from tomorrow onwards till 2072 - at 12pm today was cancelled because the idiot was sick. Or at least that's what his PA told me.
Much of the time is spent listening on the phone whilst yet another recruitment idiot tells you he's got a role... it's a bit different... but I thought I'd run it past you. Before you can get an objection in, he's launched into a long description about how the company in question want a self starter, someone who will really question things, someone to take things forward la de da de da. Eventually you get a word in edgeways and manage to find out that the role is actually based in Southampton and doing the polar opposite of what you've told the recruitment idiot, and their beloved database, you want to do. Goodbye Gracie..
The only other news, besides the fact that it rained all day today, is that someone appears to have abandoned their car in our (well, the Etchell's) parking space. It's been there all week, the tax disc is expired and one wheel is very rusty. The only logical conclusion is that it's been dumped by secret agents. Eager to do our bit in the war against terrorism we're about to inform the police. First things first though, and in true suburban busybody style, we've (okay, okay, there is no we here, Ms Love isn't quite as outraged as me) typed a notice to put at the foot of the stairs asking if anyone in the other flats knows anything. I'm hoping there is a huge reward at the end of all this..
