Darfuria

In fact, I wish I could just sit down and learn Java, .Net and everything else really quickly. They’re so dull, but the salary for the jobs requiring them is fantastic.

Can’t even think of a post title for this.

The last few days have been rather hectic, in a rather bizarre way. I had an interview in Torquay on Monday. I was feeling quite confident about the job, working for an SEO company. I had a map sorted, and directions, I knew the train times. Everything was sorted. Sunday night came, I couldn’t sleep. This is primarily because I have this whole comfort obsession going on now, where I feel quite comfortable when I get into bed and Tallis is there, but when she isn’t here it feels like something is missing, and that makes getting to sleep more difficult than it already is for me.

So, having been awake for over a day, I trundled down to the train station and drew £20 out of the cash point because it didn’t have any £10 notes. I put the £20 into the ticket machine to get my return ticket to Torquay, which cost £5, and got paid back £15 in pound coins. Yay.

I made it to Torquay on time, and knew where I was going, or so I thought. After hositing myself along the main road, and then up the world’s biggest hill, I walked past the community college and then came to the road that the office was supposedly on. I walked up and down this road a few times; the only businesses I came across were a nursing home and a nursery.  I asked a few locals and someone driving a car for a local taxi firm, none of them had heard of the building or the business. Great, I thought.

After an hour or so of walking around, trying to find this place, I gave in, feet bleeding, and retreated to the train station. Upon arriving there I discovered the next train wasn’t for another 50 minutes. It was cold, and dull. I was quite upset and very, very irritated. I walked up the steps to get to the side of the station I needed to be on, and went about counting the steps as I usually do when partaking in step-traversing activities, only to find that someone had counted them already and written the amount on the wall. Not bothering to doubt their mathmatical ability, I slouched off to the bench feeling quite depressed.

After about 45 minutes of waiting, the agency who first contacted me about the job called me, and asked where I was. I said that I couldn’t find the place, and informed them that I didn’t contact them because I didn’t have their number on my mobile (stupid, I know). The agency made a few calls and the business contacted me, and kindly gave me directions to their office, even though I was over an hour and a half late. Another 20 minutes went past as I trundled back the way I went previously, ascending up the world’s biggest hill once more, passing by all the community college idiots, I got to where I was. I called the business back, and finally managed to find the place, which wasn’t sign posted, and was actually around the back of a rather large building that appeared to sell curtains. A thorough “how to find us” on their website is certainly something I’m going to write if I get the job.

Anyway, the interview went very well, and they were very forgiving that I was late. I seemed to answer all of the questions they asked quite well, and they will contact the agency, who will contact me by the end of the week. Hopefully I’ll get the job.  If I do, I can approach my wishlist and start buying nice things again. I’ll certainly be taking a look at driving lessons as well, as there’s no way I’m walking to and from train stations every day.

I’m still fiddling around with WordPress templates. I’ve got an idea, kind of, for what I want to do with the one for this website. The Zetzio one I’m working on is coming along nicely, though I’ll be waiting for Nemphtis’ graphical input. I’m also working on one for a rugby team, which is almost finished.

It has become almost impossible to walk into a café in Exeter now, without being blinded by your own reflection upon the cum-polished Apple logo of some teenagers Macbook. It’s even more irritating because I want one.

Don’t you just hate it when somebody uses the last of the conditioner and leaves the bottle in the bathroom, resulting in you standing naked in the shower, shaking and squeezing the bottle like a fucking weirdo, awaiting for the white substance to appear in your hand. Yes, that was intended. You know.

I love it when witty people promote their excellence by adding small bits of text in unexpected places. For example, Tallis and I went to a café a little while ago, and found these sugar packets, which I think are brilliant. Kudos to the person/people who came up with these.