Sure, all men are created equal. Here's the church, here's the steeple. Please stay tuned, cut to sequel. Ashes, ashes. We all fall down.

I don't think I've ever felt such a lack of confidence after going for an interview.
The week before, I'd spent so much time preparing; researching the role, speaking to other people within the company who currently hold this position to get as much useful info as I could, reading through interview techniques, preparing strong answers to expected questions, getting my mind into the right positive frame, practising role play and presentation techniques, delving deeper into body language and improved delivery of speech, preparing questions to ask....
In the car on the way back, as the previous three hours spun round and round in my head....as my mind replayed that role play scenario, that assessment and those questions....all I could manage to say to myself was, "What a fucking dick!" or "I couldn't have fucked that up more even if I'd tried."

As I sat waiting to be called in for the interview/selection assessment, I felt pretty damned confident. I'd say a strong eight out of ten. Three hours later, as I walked back to the car before heading back, that confidence level had been kicked in the bollocks. Thinking to myself at that moment, I felt more like two out of ten was being very generous.
Needless to say, I'm not expecting to be invited to the next stage.

And you can tell the world that you're tired. But your excuses, they won't work. 'Cos I'll know that you're lying.

So, this afternoon, while I'm sat in a stuffy office telling my boss that I've applied for this (quite considerably out of my league) position, my mobile rings. I muted it and continued our conversation; we were at the part where he 'wished me good luck', whilst wearing a slight sneer. I got bleeped for a new voicemail; it was from the girl in HR where I'd sent my CV, asking me if I could contact her to arrange an interview day and time, her preference being next Monday.
What were the chance of that happening!

 I already know my boss will play a face about me wanting an extra day off next week.
This is gonna be interesting.

It's unfortunate that when we feel a storm, we can roll ourselves over when we're uncomfortable.

I applied for a new job today.
I've read through the job description and I'm totally confident that I could not only do the job, but do it well and really enjoy the challenge.
The job descriptions from the company I work for, are very detailed. The last page gives an over-view of the type of person they're looking for, then goes on to list current positions within the company where this new position would be considered a promotion. All those current positions are quite a way above my head as it is. And I think I might fall a little short on the experience they're looking for. But fuck it, I've applied anyway.

I misplaced your face in the shape of a smile, on a night that could never surprise me. Don't tell me you're afraid of the past, it's only the future that didn't last.

Another year older, and I still don't feel strong enough at times.
Isn't it supposed to get easier?!

I'm told, by my money grabbing solicitor, that my case should be over by the end of February. Blimey, it feels so far away. So, by the end of Feb, I will be free of this horrible noose around my neck. I'll know either way if it was all worth it.

And by the end of this month, I'll have a new housemate. Yes, somebody to sit with, in my terribly pathetic living room; with it's lack of wallpaper, carpet, lampshades, broken TV, broken PC, freezing along with me because we can't afford the heating bills. Lovely.
I expect we'll be sleeping together within twelve hours of her setting foot in the house. Considering she's my girlfriend, and all.

This place has been quiet.
My PC is indeed broken. And my laptop tends to randomly power down, making it very difficult to do anything. It's holding out so far, hence the blogging. And I've realised I've got loads I wanna get off my chest. I feel the need to vent some stuff, so as long as my laptop can hold out, I'll make a conscious effort to spill my thoughts. After all, it's gonna be much more difficult after the end of the month. She knows I blog, but she doesn't know where. And she's never asked me. Which I find nice.

This has be the worst year ever for me in terms of going to gigs. I saw Rihanna a few weeks ago. She nailed it! What's horrific, is that I think she's only my third gig this year. That's probably the worst it's been since I was fifteen.
Fuck!