As of Monday, I'm back in gainful employment. Hurrah!
Here ends my existence of sitting around pretending to be a writer and filling the empty hours with voluntary work for Chorlton's Big Green Festival (see, you don't catch me swigging gin and watching Trisha back to back).
I'm going to be the interim Publications Officer for the Equality and Human Rights Commission, which is all very right-on and Chorltony, and something I'm looking forward to immensely. I get to do loads of editing and proofreading, so I can't wait.
I wonder if I get a dictionary and some pencils with rubbers on the end? Ooooh, I hope so!
Strangely, my horoscope for today alludes to my getting the position. Obviously I don't normally believe in that kinda shit, especially when it's written by Russell Grant in the MEN, but maybe I will do henceforth. (Oh no, it's just the beginning of a slippery slope sliding into the dark mystic underbelly of dreamcatchers and windchimes; it must be passed on genetically. Mother, what have you done to me?)
Anyway, that horoscope...
Donating time, money or energy to an important cause fills a hole in your life. Don't be surprised if someone asks you to work for a charitable organisation.
Wow, it's like he knows me.