Days Without Alcohol: 34
I can feel the first tinge of my regular bout of tonsillitis setting in. I get this almost once a year, sadly I have left it too late to have my tonsils out as it is apparently incredibly dangerous to have them removed once you get to 30.
Not that I would have them removed anyway, I am a complete fairy when it comes to having any form of surgery.
I wanted to stay in bed but I had an interview with the Jobcentre (I had already missed the first appointment) so I wrapped up warm, bought a load of throat sweets from the shop, and slid my way through the icey streets to their new office.
It is all changed since I was last there, you now have to have two interviews with two different people. In between the interviews they park you in front of a job machine (I’m not sure what the proper name for them is) for you to have a quick search for a job or two.
I shocked the second interviewer by actually producing a print out slip when she asked me if I had found a job on the machine. Not a lot of people produce one, apparently they just pretend ot look for one.
The position is as a road sweeper, not a particularly glamorous job but at least it pays well and it is honest work. When I got home I did a quick search on Reed and found another road sweeping job that I immediately applied for.
I won’t get them as the last two road sweeping positions I applied for I was turned down for not having the right experience. That’s right, I’m not qualified to push a fucking broom down a street!
I heard the other day that Informa, the ocmpany I used to work for, have just laid-off their entire research department. That is almost 100 market researchers out of a job. I’m not sure if I should be laughing at this or not.
Will sent me a message on Facebook this morning to ask me if I fancied going to see Richard Herring on the 26th. To see Richard Herring I’d go with the Devil himself, if he actually existed of course, which he doesn’t.
The first thing I’m going to do is ask him, very loudly, how his crabs are doing.
I’ve become rather obsessed with Twitter lately. I have Stephen Fry on my list (yes, THE, Stephen Fry!) and last night he was trapped in a lift on the 26th floor and rather than panic he took out his phone and started using Twitter and it actually turned into an entertaining saga.
That is how I spent my evening, sitting at my computer reading updates that Stephen Fry had sent to Twitter on his phone while he was stuck in a lift with a load of strangers.
I need to get out more I fear!
I am running the 2018 London Marathon to raise money for Livability UK in memory of my dad. If you can I'd appreciate any donation you can spare. http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/deansaliba