Sooo....
...remember back in like May, when I said I might have some interesting stuff in the pipeline?
Of course you don't. It was over four months ago.
Well, anyway, the pipeline was in fact the unexpectedly extended process that is the York CLP selection process, and at the end of all that, I am the Labour candidate for Heslington (that's the ward with the university in) for the City of York council elections next year.
I am, as you might imagine, slightly bemused. I'm also thinking I should buy a suit. (My mother's response when I 'phoned her last night? "MAKE SURE YOU GET A HAIRCUT BEFORE APPEARING ON ANY LEAFLETS! And get a colour on it, as well!" Ta.)
...in other, more usual news...despite the fact that my unreliability at work has now reached actually laughable proportions (what can I say...at this time of year I'm not very good at doing, well, anything), my boss stopped me on the stairs this morning and proceeded to ask me, while telling me off, whether I wanted to reapply for my job, since my fixed-term contract runs out, like, this weekend. I'd pretty much assumed they were going to cast me out into the wastelands of unemployment crying "Begone! And never darken our mop-buckets again!", but, no, they are that desperate for staff.
Hmm...do I really want to carry on getting up at 5 in the morning all through term-time? Or do I want to commence the humiliating procedure of looking for another job...
Of course you don't. It was over four months ago.
Well, anyway, the pipeline was in fact the unexpectedly extended process that is the York CLP selection process, and at the end of all that, I am the Labour candidate for Heslington (that's the ward with the university in) for the City of York council elections next year.
I am, as you might imagine, slightly bemused. I'm also thinking I should buy a suit. (My mother's response when I 'phoned her last night? "MAKE SURE YOU GET A HAIRCUT BEFORE APPEARING ON ANY LEAFLETS! And get a colour on it, as well!" Ta.)
...in other, more usual news...despite the fact that my unreliability at work has now reached actually laughable proportions (what can I say...at this time of year I'm not very good at doing, well, anything), my boss stopped me on the stairs this morning and proceeded to ask me, while telling me off, whether I wanted to reapply for my job, since my fixed-term contract runs out, like, this weekend. I'd pretty much assumed they were going to cast me out into the wastelands of unemployment crying "Begone! And never darken our mop-buckets again!", but, no, they are that desperate for staff.
Hmm...do I really want to carry on getting up at 5 in the morning all through term-time? Or do I want to commence the humiliating procedure of looking for another job...