November 29 (Monday): Great Time On Drugs. Dream: I put all my old GloboChem clients on MSN Messenger and stay in touch with half of them, continuing to work in the same field with the same people. Once more I feel employable (ho ho).

That was a good dream whereas the remainder of my day turns out to be a waking nightmare. I wake up and my computer has crashed gnarly. Not only that though, the whole thing appears to have gone to pieces and I suspect a virus has hit and wrecked the system. My morning turns into the afternoon as I find myself battering my head against the wall trying to attempt to save my PC as it only continues/proceeds to go slower and slower in its death. As a result, I manage to get next to zero revision accomplished as my computer going to pieces turns out to be one of the more distressing occurrences to happen recently. Indeed, it never rains but it pours.

I find myself fucking about with the computer well through the morning into lunchtime, heading towards the afternoon. No chance of much study today then, these exams are doomed. I do do some study, with percentages at the end of today standing at: Audit 22%, Tax 7%, Overall 15%.

Today is hard work and early on I feel I can’t make the Shellac show in Kings Cross tonight, so I find myself texting Ross, apologising for the fact.

Around 1.30, Supergirl is on TV for some reason. I can’t really imagine any biddies really being into that movie for daytime entertainment but I guess the unemployment and layabout students appreciate it (that and agoraphobes). I watch it only for the car crash performance that is the late great Peter Cook, an infamously bad decision on his part.

The only other real mentionable occurrence of today is my accomplishment of winding up Sara on MSN, which to be honest is like shooting fish in a barrel (or pulling in a brothel).

Being interview day today, I get my gear ready and hope to make myself look dapper. Unfortunately, right now, I feel far from dapper but still I head out at 4PM for my 5.30PM interview with some confidence.

I park up for my interview in the Civic car park and head into town. My destination tonight (lucky interviewer) turns out to be an office down the same road at the Ipswich KPMG. Small world. I walk towards the allotted number for the accountancy office/firm and the road appears to be running out of buildings but there it is eventually, tonight’s lucky suitor.

I step into the office and first impressions are that it is fucking rough, like an old house conversion that was never completed. And the house looks like a survivor from the blitz. I sit in a waiting room, surrounding by crap furniture and deserted old computers. Eventually I get called up into the boss’s office and it is a proper accountant’s office: untidy and fuddy. The interview really goes well but the position sounds like one, something perhaps a bit beyond me at this point of my career (although had previous employers bothered to progress and develop me, I’m sure with experience the job/position would be a doddle). That said, the position sounds like a fantastic opportunity, basically a managerial role (a bit above senior) with view to progressing the person in the role into office manager very quickly with the eventual view of taking over the practise over the next five years. As I said, perhaps a bit beyond me. I have no question about my ability, I am definitely capable to take on such a roll but I think my limited experience (eight and a half years now of the same old shit) would mean the requirement for a bit too much hand holding. I feel I get on well however with the gentleman (the boss), even when it gets discussed as to why I am currently unemployed, that whole situation is like water off a duck’s back. He draws on a piece of paper the current make up/hierarchy of the business and it is intimidating at just what a high level he intends me to work at. He describes the existing members of staff (my team) and it sounds like there are individuals already in place that could fill such a roll/slot/position and perhaps, maybe, even more accomplished than myself at this stage. The gentleman keeps asking me if it would be a position that would interest me and I go “oh yes”, asking what I feel are well slotted questions in place with regards to the roll. The interview is over thirty minutes, something of a short one methinks. On that note, I leave a little concerned that it was all too easy, all too brief. I walk back past KPMG, trying to peak a look into their windows to see what it is like in the NFL.

I get back into my car and tear back down the A12 back home. On the way back, I pop into Highwoods Tesco for some treats for dinner and it soon occurs to me that I could probably have easily made it to London to see the Shellac show (providing I mastered a quick, smooth costume change at some point).

Instead, I spend the evening doing the Monday night thing, which equates to OK comedy on BBC2 (save for the awesome/amazing/fantastic/truly warped Monkey Dust). Eventually I fall asleep watching the Nirvana DVD which came with that cursed boxset. At around midnight, I come out of my coma to discover that Memoirs Of An Invisible Man is on BBC1. Mentally, I am bang up for some Chevy Chase but physically, he immediately sends me straight back to sleep. I guess it wasn’t a night for Steve Albini after all.

np: Loxy And Keaton - Haters