Thursday, January 20, 2005

January 14 (Friday): Air Raid Gtr. Oh my, I wake up this morning (around 6.30) and it is so bitterly cold. It’s a slow start and it isn’t until 9.30 before I am active.

More chores today and these begin with sorting out my mortgage insurance documents out to send off to the people that do not seem too happy with me (ho ho).

I get ready for the agency interview and I’m not really too serious about it. In other words, I don’t bother to shave off my “beard” for the interview, especially after last night’s comment (I am fool). I put on my suit and it fills really funny, it has been over a month now since I last wore a suit. And I really should have this suit (the pinstripe) cleaned in the meantime as there appears to be some kind of gnarly comedy stain around the crotch area. This does not look good, it makes me look like a member of Arab Strap.

I make moves around 11.45, to get out of Colchester in good time to deal with the A12 in order to be in Chelmsford for 1PM. It is a beautiful day actually, sunny and not necessarily cold (although some really bitter weather must surely only be around the corner). The A12 turns out to be a breeze and I find myself in Chelmsford well before time, actually leaving enough time to find a post office.

I do the interview thing at the employment agency and I sense a real reaction on first impressions when I appear with my “beard” (I really should have lost it for my return into the working world). By now I am pretty sceptical and blasé about all these employment agencies, so I probably don’t go into the thing/interview with fully the right attitude. That said however, I do feel I manage to turn on the charm and NOT appear too laid back (something I now really have a complex about). Initially/immediately I get set up with filling out some forms on a PC while my interviewer disappears to photocopy my passport and no doubt laugh at my photo on it (which by the way I am actually quite proud of). He returns and we get into the routine of my explaining my employment history, not least recent negative developments. I actually find myself really liking my interviewer, he seems the most human and least bullshit person I have met. I get onto the thing about the blog dismissal, hoping that he has heard/read about the Waterstones case. Sadly he has not. Once more I find myself twisting myself up in knots trying to explain the circumstances of my dismissal but at least this guy knows what a blog is, he tells me that he has one himself. And suddenly I sense some empathy mixed with paranoia in the knowledge that he will probably do a search for mine at some point (or am I being too paranoid, too 1984?). The interview goes with a swing and I feel really encouraged by what I am hearing. He tells me how Colchester is “dry” for salaries and from the perspective of this agency, it looks like I will be looking for work outside of Colchester. I tell him about my last job and how I didn’t even have a telephone on my desk and he looks at me as I am/were an idiot. I couldn’t disagree. He mentions/suggests a position in Billericay, which is pretty far away but the position sounds a really good one, a good opportunity. I have to say, I think I really need to get back into work soon because I am getting pretty comfortable here at home doing my thing. My interview with him ends and he wheels in the temp lady who says she may have some positions coming up. Unfortunately I do however see her giving me some funny looks and expressions, I’m sure brought on by the “beard”. This all sounds a lot more solid and real than other agencies I have spoken to over the past two months and when she is done, I leave their offices feeling optimistic again. Job hunting is proving so rollercoaster with the emotions.

From there, happy, I indulge in the opposite of retail therapy, retail victory? I don’t know, I just feel good and confident in putting things on the credit card. I find the Nick Cave “God Is In The House” DVD in the sale, so I buy that coupled with the Go! Team “Ladyflash” CD single and The Rum Diary by Hunter S. Thompson. I then make a quick trip into Ottakers where I find The Great Shark Hunt in the shop, in really good condition. Almost always when I see this book in stores, it is always tatty as hell from where cheapskates have been fingering the 600 page tomb. I also briefly flick through the sale there and find Requiem For A Dream by Hubert Selby Jr for only £1.99. Result!

Chelmsford however lowers in my estimation when I think I almost get pick pocketed in WH Smith. As I bend over to see if they have the Toby Young book (nowhere else does), I find some Chav kid bending over in synchronity with me. I whip up as if to go “what the fuck?”. Not confident of my suspicions though, I don’t say anything as he moves away to pick up a Ben Elton novel, a sure fire sign he has not interest in buying a book. I hover around him for a bit, to piss him off back but the way I do it, it just comes over as if I am trying to pull him. I am so angry and so fucking offended and yet maybe it is all in my head, maybe I’m just being paranoid. I watch him as he ambles his way around another section to see if he is going to try it on with someone else. I watch as he picks up the Jonny Wilkinson autobiography with only confirms just what an arsehole wanker this kid. He doesn’t attempt to pickpocket anyone else so maybe I was being paranoid it seems but this is only thought until I see him hook up with his girl, a thicker tracksuited Chav than himself. So those are Chelmsford wrong ‘uns, I can now believe how Stevo was beaten/mugged in this town.

I fly back down the A12 back to Colchester and stop by at Asda on the way for some (deserved I feel) lunch. As I return home I find myself following a car with the number plate “VVM 1”. Oh wow, I bet the band V/VM would dig that I figure and I find myself attempting to get a photo of the car like a bored lunatic. And I actually do manage to get the snap (just about). I really need a job.

The afternoon sees me back in time to actually make something of the afternoon. Instead I watch outside my window as my neighbour, with the afternoon off himself, washes his crappy car for about the fourth time this month.

Myself, I wind up on MSN with both Justin and Racton exchanging world views. And this only gets interrupted as Steve Clear (Mark’s brother) emails during my mincing.

I manage to do some writing and eventually find myself in the evening when my phone rings and it is Stevo for some reason. He is calling me up after an ISP number for an internet connection where he is trying to fudge his mate’s old computer to get it online with a backdoor method it seems. It sounds absolutely excruciating just what he is trying to attempt, looking on the internet alone for a phone number turns out to be pretty painful work.

Friday night evening arrives but I have little recollection other than The Simpsons episode being the tennis one with the Williams sisters. After that is the first eviction night of this year’s Celebrity Big Brother. It is obviously the hilarious Jackie Stallone being booted out but before it happens, I find myself sent straight to sleep out of tedium.

np: Free Kitten – What’s Fair


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