I got my first rejection email today, from Wendy Wilson of the Shef Uni department of oncology. Apparently, I didn't have enough experience in the relevant role compared with the other applicants. I knew that already though, so it didn't come as much of a surprise. In a way, it was just nice to at least get an email from someone - more often than not it just says 'If you haven't heard back from us within four weeks, please take it to mean you have not been successful', or something along those lines. Four weeks! When you're really skint you can't really hang around that long, especially if the job you've applied for isn't even that good. But anyway, not to worry. Wendy Wilson has earned a place in my heart for that simple act of consideration; I imagine she makes a bloody good roast dinner, for some reason. Maybe it's the name Wendy, I think it implies a certain homeliness that you just don't get with a Claire or a Georgina. No offence to any Claires or Georginas who read this blog, which I suspect is none, it's just that your name doesn't cut the mustard, sorry.
After that, keen not to become immediately despondent, I did the last of the tidying I needed to do before Anna's arrival in the afternoon. She's a friend set to move into a our spare room, which has stood empty and lifeless for over a month. I went up to check if it was habitable, and it pretty much was. Except, oh, what's this? There was a plastic bag on the floor containing what I think used to be a banana. I couldn't really tell any more, as the mystery fruit - I'm pretty sure it was fruit - had completely liquified, and the bag now sloshed with a kind of green, primordial mush. There was paper in there as well, some old evelopes and I think a couple of used tea bags. It was fucking grim, to say the least, and would probably look out of place as a welcome gift. So, off to the bin it went, to wreak its foul havoc elsewhere. Other than that the room was ok. I did a bit of hoovering, dusted the bookshelf and it was all set.
She arrived at about 4 o'clock, with her mum, in a VW Golf absolutely rammed full of possessions. There was a plant perched in the passenger seat foot-well and a duvet pressed up against the rear window. I was really happy to have Anna around again - she's one of my best mates and I've only seen her once in the last 3 months. She talks unbelievably quickly, and provides an atmosphere where it feels like something interesting is constantly about to happen. She keeps talking about going out and having a big night on Saturday, but I think I'm too poor at the moment. I need a job so badly, just an interview would be handy. I'm naturally inclined to expect the worst and hope for the best, so can become despondent very quickly when trying to get a job. The world seems like a darker place, and my face sets into an expression of grim, trudging vacancy. Josie, off of Big Brother, said that whenever she finds herself feeling down, she just imagines she's the woman who got her face ripped off by a chimpanzee. So I'll try that. It's bounds to put a smile back on my fleshy, intact face.
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