every day that you get up and force your cards
Dear self,
You are not profoundly unemployable. Even if you don't get the job you interviewed for yesterday, and there's a hefty statistical chance you won't (850 applicants, 8 places, etc.), that does not mean that the very first thing your interviewer said to you, after pouring out the coffee and asking about your journey, was, "Well, you have a CV to die for, don't you?"
Definitively yours,
you.
It wasn't the worst experience ever, in other words. Five am really sucks, but it's very nice to be on a train rolling through a pre-dawn landscape be met with a giant, beautifully lit celebratory banner above a station. Dear inhabitants of Leamington Spa: a very happy Diwali to you too.
(Dear Network Rail: a day return from Oxford to Northampton, right. A distance of almost precisely fifty miles. £58.90? Seriously? On top of five am, that was injury on top of injury.)
Today, it's a bright and beautiful morning but I am somewhat out of cope. One of the long-term issues the swine flu has raised has been a series of sharp, piercing headaches that usually result in my taking to my bed at three in the afternoon in manner of heroine of Victorian novel. A lot of running around with GPs has resulted in my being prescribed something called triptan, which has resulted in further running around when it transpired that this is quite difficult to get hold of (also, I originally thought he said tryptophan and had several hours of confusion as to how that would help with a headache).
The GP also notes I am "sensitive to medication" and should maybe split my amitriptyline into two, and Victorian-heroic as that is too, I am feeling very unromantically run-down. I keep trying to stay in bed and let life wash break gently in quiet waves over my head, but this strategy has stopped working for possibly the first time ever. I keep getting up and going to class. The universe doesn't help - I've been playing with Google Calendar the last couple of weeks, and one thing it does, that I may have to stop it doing, is email me every morning with what I have to do that day, complete with locations, times and consequences if I don't do them. When even Google thinks you should go to class, you're out of ideas.
Today, I have to do my first piece of advocacy, which is - let's see - positively terrifying, and tomorrow, I, er, graduate from Oxford, something which is supposed to be a momentous occasion in one's life but keeps slipping out of my head because, well, it's been a year and a half since I left Oxford and I have so much to do it's landed, again unromantically, on the to-do list: things to do Sat, graduate.
Sigh. I think I should maybe go and figure out what I'm going to say to the judge beyond "Good morning, your honour, I represent the Claimant", and maybe then stretch so far as a shower.
(One final, unrelated point: incidentally, you are all fired. Why did no one mention that there was a new Indigo Girls album? Why has no one mentioned this since March? I, er, didn't much like "Despite Our Differences", and I was looking forward to this.
Anyway. "Poseidon and the Bitter Bug". So far I only have one song, but I like it. Back to work.)
You are not profoundly unemployable. Even if you don't get the job you interviewed for yesterday, and there's a hefty statistical chance you won't (850 applicants, 8 places, etc.), that does not mean that the very first thing your interviewer said to you, after pouring out the coffee and asking about your journey, was, "Well, you have a CV to die for, don't you?"
Definitively yours,
you.
It wasn't the worst experience ever, in other words. Five am really sucks, but it's very nice to be on a train rolling through a pre-dawn landscape be met with a giant, beautifully lit celebratory banner above a station. Dear inhabitants of Leamington Spa: a very happy Diwali to you too.
(Dear Network Rail: a day return from Oxford to Northampton, right. A distance of almost precisely fifty miles. £58.90? Seriously? On top of five am, that was injury on top of injury.)
Today, it's a bright and beautiful morning but I am somewhat out of cope. One of the long-term issues the swine flu has raised has been a series of sharp, piercing headaches that usually result in my taking to my bed at three in the afternoon in manner of heroine of Victorian novel. A lot of running around with GPs has resulted in my being prescribed something called triptan, which has resulted in further running around when it transpired that this is quite difficult to get hold of (also, I originally thought he said tryptophan and had several hours of confusion as to how that would help with a headache).
The GP also notes I am "sensitive to medication" and should maybe split my amitriptyline into two, and Victorian-heroic as that is too, I am feeling very unromantically run-down. I keep trying to stay in bed and let life wash break gently in quiet waves over my head, but this strategy has stopped working for possibly the first time ever. I keep getting up and going to class. The universe doesn't help - I've been playing with Google Calendar the last couple of weeks, and one thing it does, that I may have to stop it doing, is email me every morning with what I have to do that day, complete with locations, times and consequences if I don't do them. When even Google thinks you should go to class, you're out of ideas.
Today, I have to do my first piece of advocacy, which is - let's see - positively terrifying, and tomorrow, I, er, graduate from Oxford, something which is supposed to be a momentous occasion in one's life but keeps slipping out of my head because, well, it's been a year and a half since I left Oxford and I have so much to do it's landed, again unromantically, on the to-do list: things to do Sat, graduate.
Sigh. I think I should maybe go and figure out what I'm going to say to the judge beyond "Good morning, your honour, I represent the Claimant", and maybe then stretch so far as a shower.
(One final, unrelated point: incidentally, you are all fired. Why did no one mention that there was a new Indigo Girls album? Why has no one mentioned this since March? I, er, didn't much like "Despite Our Differences", and I was looking forward to this.
Anyway. "Poseidon and the Bitter Bug". So far I only have one song, but I like it. Back to work.)