On Friday I had a job interview, my first one in about 6 years. You know what? Interviews aren't fun. They are painful, agonizing, worrying, stress-inducing, anxiety-provoking...and the punch line, it wasn't even for a promotion, it was for a lateral move.
This is my best, in fact, my one and only hope to escape the department of The Stupidest Man Alive. Will it happen? I won't know for about a month.
If I were to get this job, my supervisor would be 13 years younger than I am. This would be the first time I have a boss who is younger. Fortunately, compared to my current numbskull of an idiot of a moron of a boss, this fellow is known to be exceptionally bright. So he could be 12, as far as I am concerned, as long as he's smart and knows what he's doing, I will respect that.
Cross your fingers and toes for me, and pray to St. Jude, the patron saint of lost causes because my sanity is on the line here, so I need to pull out the big guns, prayer-wise.
Sunday, February 15, 2015
Sunday, February 08, 2015
Ouch
I saw an Irish play on the weekend. Here is what I learnt:
Sometimes "Joycean" just means painful.
Sometimes "Joycean" just means painful.
Tuesday, February 03, 2015
Harper Lee
That woman publishes a new novel every 50 years, the market be damned!
Watch out, Stephen King!
Watch out, Stephen King!
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