Some time, no blog.

Isn't food poisoning horrid?

Stuck in Orange for a week, I decided to enjoy myself at a local seafood bar. With three gert big pots of Mussels. Yum. Oh, and three gert big glasses of wine as well.

Something didn't agree with me, and so I spent my night decorating the hotel bathroom a rather fetching shade of brown (lovely*) followed by a six hour train ride home. I've been out of sorts a bit since, but think I'm getting myself back together now. Sadly, I think my out-of-sortsness might have impaired my judgement vis-a-vis a few social matters, but I hope I can be forgiven for those. You'll never read this, but sorry Matthew, even if you are an idiot.

It's no secret that I'm looking for another means of gainful employment. Actually, that might be a lie: It appears to be common knowledge to everyone except those people that I have applied to, most of which seem to think that I am perfectly happy where I am and that there is no need to even acknowledge my application. I'd love to blame my lack of decent application and covering letter writing skills upon the illness, but some of these stem back to before then.

Just how long do you wait before you understand a non-response to be: "You're a twunt and we don't want to hire you"?


* I would tell you about how much lovelier it was to clean the sink after I blocked it, but you don't want to read about that.