Sinister: it could be the story of my life. But thankfully, its not.

[idleberry]

I got a letter in my inbox today. well, not actually
today, but today was the first chance I bothered to
open it.

It seems that I applied for a job through one of those
internet recruitment agencies. Or at least I sent them
my CV to do something with it, like a recruitment
agency is supposed to do.

I knew it was going to be bad news. The fact that the
letter was titled "regret.doc" was a bit of a
giveaway. Maybe thats why I didn't bother to open it
earlier. I've been in a bit of an odd mood these past
few weeks, and I'm not big on bad news really.

"Dear Kristin" the letter began, "Thank you for
sending me your career details which I recently
received."
Hmm. "You're welcome" I thought, knowing it was going
to be bad news. Thats how they always tell you bad
news. Start off by seeming all nice and get into your
good books, by sounding all sympathetic. And then they
shoot you down. 

"Unfortunately, we are not handling any vacancies
which suit your background and experience."
At the moment, my background is my brothers messy
bedroom, so I can see why a 19 year olds messy bedroom
might not be the appropriate setting for work.

"I hope you are successful in obtaining a new
position, however, should you require any assistance
in the future, please do not hesitate to contact us."
Assistance with what? with my shopping? 
I can't remember what job it was that I applied for. I
think it was as marketing executive or something. What
is an executive anyway? that bit I never really
figured out.

I found out yesterday that a girl I went to school
with has movd to London and become  BBC weather girl.
Her name is Hannah Moffat. I guess I'll look out for
her when I'm entertaining myself with daytime
television and trying to think of jobs I could do.

So, I still need a job.

I was feeling rather down yesterday. All depressed,
despondant, and sad. Empty and unhappy. I tried to
play my guitar, but that only worked a little bit. 

With all this time on my hands, I could do so many 
things. I could sit and write a novel, or an album of
music or something. But yesterday I just felt
completely out of energy and patience with being
creative. It's not something  particularly enjoyed
feeling. Usually I end up doing crappy jobs, like
stuffing envelopes or working in a reception or
something, and a million and ten stories come to mind,
but becuase I'm working, I can't very well sit and
write them down. So I file them away, and somewhere
they get forgotten about, or the passion for writing
them gets lost in the cogs and fluff in my head.

I've got to go to the dentist shortly and have a
filling or two. Maybe when I come back, I'll sit down
at my brothers computer and put those stories into
typed form. A collection of stories.

I suppose its not really a good idea to be drinking
lemonade and eating chocolate this early in the
morning, before a dental appointment really is it?

righto.

later people,

idle+unemployed berry






=====
http://clubs.yahoo.com/clubs/corduroysmoke and the world did get covered in a thick haze of corduroy smoke. And it felt good.

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