Sunday 8th August

My temping position came to an end on Friday, natural causes this time, so my career is definitely looking up. When I say looking up, I mean of course that I wasn’t escorted off the premises this time. When I say career; ditto.

I start a new job on Wednesday as a telephone fundraiser. Yes, they are letting me loose on the phone, tasked with gently coaxing and cajoling kind hearted citizens to increase their donations to the charity closest to their hearts.

As you can imagine, a diplomatic, tactful and warmly persuasive personality is required.

Why don’t the staff at my recruitment agency just run me over? I feel like I’m on some warped, vocational hybrid of ‘100 ways to leave a job’.

Annabelle and I went over to see Friend-Kate this afternoon. Friend-Kate and family recently moved to a new house which is, compared to the snug abode in which I and the freeloaders reside, like Chatsworth House.

An undulating acre of garden surrounds the property with room for several fully grown trees, a generous chicken habitat and a lawned area that could easily accommodate 9 holes. The interior continues the theme of generous proportions and Kate’s artistic talents have ensured that the day-core is tasteful but more importantly, warm and homely.

Despite all this (and did I mention her lovely husband and friendly, well balanced children) Friend-Kate is still delightfully un-yummy and is a testament to the fact that just because you have a Porsche in the drive doesn’t mean that your head has to simultaneously disappear up your own ‘derriere’.

Instead of discussing tasty, fat free recipes for children or free range parenting (who comes up with this stuff? Is the alternative battery parenting?) we sat eating bacon sandwiches, watching her son and Annabelle on the trampoline and drawing straws for who was going to do the A+E run if the threatened bouncing collision did actually happen.

Came home to find the teenager and his crew slouched on the sofa watching an episode of Jerry Springer called ‘Three fat pigs and a trailer’.

I don’t know where it all went so catastrophically wrong?

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2 thoughts on “Sunday 8th August

  1. Sounds like a most pleasant way to spend a Sunday. How about replacing the bacon sarnies for a decent bottle of red (or two?)? Oh no, we’re not allowed to now are we … a la plod and breath bag scenario from last week. However, I reckon Friend-kate’s kids (like everybody elses) like to drive her round ‘the proverbial’ and her husband the potential to be a miserable git (just like everybody elses. Things aren’t always what they seem …

    • Sian, you are absolutely right, there is not much in this world that is as it first appears to be. Scratch the most perfect surface and I think you’ll find that most people’s kid’s, husband’s and in-law’s drive them totally round the bend! So let’s call a spade a spade and just admit that the majority of us aren’t yummy at all – we are just doin’ our best.

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