Dear Sir/Madam, I am writing with regards to the above position.....
The dog next-door has been sat outside, whining, for hours now. Which is kind of how I feel about the whole 'Job' situation.
It's getting to me a little. And I'm letting it, so that I'll wake up in the morning in fear and try and sort it out. But when the jobcentre have provided me with three email addresses for the jobs I found, and when I emailed my CV and covering letter to them, then I expected it to be that simple. Of course not. None of the email addresses are even VALID. Congratulations, Job Centre. You've fucked up something AGAIN! Thrice, no less.
Mam isn't coming home until tomorrow which means I have even more ironing to do. I dont know what it is about my ironing technique that means almighty blobs of water frequently expel from the fucking thing, all over the clothes, making them look far more unclean than before they were washed. All I know is I dont iron unless it's bloody well unavoidable, because I'm absolutely shite at it.
Myself and Tanith made some exquisite DANISH PASTRY BEASTS last night. It was both jolly good fun and tasty. She also showed me how to make caramel sauce and bloody Honeycombe, which is a thorough favourite of mine. I need a tin and loads and loads of sugar, for starters.
I have resisted playing the Sims all day. All weekend, in fact. I am about to shower, I have cleaned the car and had an omelette. I think it will be time then. Before my daily hospital trip anyway. I dont know why the doctor decided to keep her in. She's doing great apart from missing home, which would be solved had he signed her discharge papers. Then I wouldn't have to be sat around a miserable person for 2.5hours each day in a place which smells like an ancient toilet. I know full well that's selfish but quite frankly I don't care. No-one would visit me if I lived in a shitbowl and complained continuously at anyone within a 5ft radius.
It's getting to me a little. And I'm letting it, so that I'll wake up in the morning in fear and try and sort it out. But when the jobcentre have provided me with three email addresses for the jobs I found, and when I emailed my CV and covering letter to them, then I expected it to be that simple. Of course not. None of the email addresses are even VALID. Congratulations, Job Centre. You've fucked up something AGAIN! Thrice, no less.
Mam isn't coming home until tomorrow which means I have even more ironing to do. I dont know what it is about my ironing technique that means almighty blobs of water frequently expel from the fucking thing, all over the clothes, making them look far more unclean than before they were washed. All I know is I dont iron unless it's bloody well unavoidable, because I'm absolutely shite at it.
Myself and Tanith made some exquisite DANISH PASTRY BEASTS last night. It was both jolly good fun and tasty. She also showed me how to make caramel sauce and bloody Honeycombe, which is a thorough favourite of mine. I need a tin and loads and loads of sugar, for starters.
I have resisted playing the Sims all day. All weekend, in fact. I am about to shower, I have cleaned the car and had an omelette. I think it will be time then. Before my daily hospital trip anyway. I dont know why the doctor decided to keep her in. She's doing great apart from missing home, which would be solved had he signed her discharge papers. Then I wouldn't have to be sat around a miserable person for 2.5hours each day in a place which smells like an ancient toilet. I know full well that's selfish but quite frankly I don't care. No-one would visit me if I lived in a shitbowl and complained continuously at anyone within a 5ft radius.