Created | Updated Apr 29, 2004
Monday
No car. Consider slitting throat, then realise it would not even be a tiny bit attractive on the pale sage carpet and doubt if the offsprung could afford the carpet-cleaning bill.
Walk to village...Perhaps I should train for next year's Marathon. Walking isn't really that difficult. What happens if I go a bit faster?
Dear god, everything wobbles. That is quite unnatural! I could break an ankle in these boots, both ankles even.
Meet Chloe for lunch.
'They're going to make me redundant!' She wails. Quite good at wailing is Chloe, it's probably because she's tall, sort of looks more elegant when you're tall; tears coursing down impeccable cheekbones, and slowly, but gracefully, forming pools of woe on the marble tiles.
If you're short you end up drowning in a lake of wet salt and your face goes all blotchy.
'Oh excellent! We could do the jobcentre game together, perhaps you can give me a lift.'
Wrong response. Try again.
'Oh no, that's dreadful! How dare they! They'll never cope without you!'
I think they might actually but I won't go there.
'What am I going to do? I'll never get another job.'
With legs like yours of course you will!
'Stick with me, kiddo. I'm an experienced hand in the unemployment game. In fact I think I should be fully qualified by now, do they give you a degree or something, that would be nice a BA in unemployable.'
Walk home. Wonder how long it will be before the boots need re heeling?
Tuesday
Car still not better.
Toy with idea of buying bicycle. Realise that a) cannot afford it, b) not very good at riding them even when young and c) suspect everything will wobble more than it does when attempting to trot.
Walk to village. I am sure there is a hole developing on the sole of my left boot. Perhaps I should pad it with a bit of the Guardian? Isn't that what you do? Didn't Charlie Chaplin do that in one of his movies? At least the classified section would serve a useful purpose. Not one reply to my media job applications. OK perhaps I'm just a tiny bit under qualified for controller of channel four, but only a tiny bit surely?
Have lunch with Malcolm and Amanda
Apologies accepted.
Walk home.
Have dinner with Patrick
Slightly more histrionic apology also accepted.
Wednesday
Watch 'Trisha',Oh my god I have to get a day job! Daytime television is a fast track to suicide.
Mow lawn, weed garden. Lunch with Dimitri, phone garage...joy! Car will be ready tomorrow; public transport was almost becoming appealing.
Download employment agency addresses from Internet. Revise CV. Call friend in town arrange lunch.
Thursday/Friday
Collect car. Hit town. Do agencies. OK why is life never simple?
Have printed off a million copies of my CV and do they want that? No, they want me to email it. Oh, and can they take me on their books now? No. Why? Because they have to assess me, not sure I like the sound of that.
'Why don't you apply for a teaching job oversees?' My lunch date and erstwhile comrade in Tesol arms enquires?
'I can't afford to. It doesn't pay enough to keep the house and allow me to live in Delhi or Dubai! Besides you're a fine one to talk! How many jobs have you applied for exactly, Miss 'I'm definitely giving up my job and starting a new life'?'
She has the good grace to look suitably chastened.
'It's complicated.'
'It's a man.'
'Well...'
'It's a man.'
'It might be.'
'You've just lost; you do know that? One marriage, 2.4 children, an A-Z of stretch marks and in thirty years you'll be wondering 'Would I have made a good teacher?' and 'What would life in China have been like?'
'Don't you dare start lecturing me! Why on earth did you go on the course if you're not even going to attempt to use it?'
Now there's an interesting question. Why did I do a course that turned out to be the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, Cost me a fortune and deprived me of sleep or sanity for 28 days? A course that I may never even use because teaching is not even a passion.
Good grief even mid menopause, I am forever obedient.
'Because my daughter told me to! Now can we please change the subject and organise our next reunion!'
No car. Consider slitting throat, then realise it would not even be a tiny bit attractive on the pale sage carpet and doubt if the offsprung could afford the carpet-cleaning bill.
Walk to village...Perhaps I should train for next year's Marathon. Walking isn't really that difficult. What happens if I go a bit faster?
Dear god, everything wobbles. That is quite unnatural! I could break an ankle in these boots, both ankles even.
Meet Chloe for lunch.
'They're going to make me redundant!' She wails. Quite good at wailing is Chloe, it's probably because she's tall, sort of looks more elegant when you're tall; tears coursing down impeccable cheekbones, and slowly, but gracefully, forming pools of woe on the marble tiles.
If you're short you end up drowning in a lake of wet salt and your face goes all blotchy.
'Oh excellent! We could do the jobcentre game together, perhaps you can give me a lift.'
Wrong response. Try again.
'Oh no, that's dreadful! How dare they! They'll never cope without you!'
I think they might actually but I won't go there.
'What am I going to do? I'll never get another job.'
With legs like yours of course you will!
'Stick with me, kiddo. I'm an experienced hand in the unemployment game. In fact I think I should be fully qualified by now, do they give you a degree or something, that would be nice a BA in unemployable.'
Walk home. Wonder how long it will be before the boots need re heeling?
Tuesday
Car still not better.
Toy with idea of buying bicycle. Realise that a) cannot afford it, b) not very good at riding them even when young and c) suspect everything will wobble more than it does when attempting to trot.
Walk to village. I am sure there is a hole developing on the sole of my left boot. Perhaps I should pad it with a bit of the Guardian? Isn't that what you do? Didn't Charlie Chaplin do that in one of his movies? At least the classified section would serve a useful purpose. Not one reply to my media job applications. OK perhaps I'm just a tiny bit under qualified for controller of channel four, but only a tiny bit surely?
Have lunch with Malcolm and Amanda
Apologies accepted.
Walk home.
Have dinner with Patrick
Slightly more histrionic apology also accepted.
Wednesday
Watch 'Trisha',Oh my god I have to get a day job! Daytime television is a fast track to suicide.
Mow lawn, weed garden. Lunch with Dimitri, phone garage...joy! Car will be ready tomorrow; public transport was almost becoming appealing.
Download employment agency addresses from Internet. Revise CV. Call friend in town arrange lunch.
Thursday/Friday
Collect car. Hit town. Do agencies. OK why is life never simple?
Have printed off a million copies of my CV and do they want that? No, they want me to email it. Oh, and can they take me on their books now? No. Why? Because they have to assess me, not sure I like the sound of that.
'Why don't you apply for a teaching job oversees?' My lunch date and erstwhile comrade in Tesol arms enquires?
'I can't afford to. It doesn't pay enough to keep the house and allow me to live in Delhi or Dubai! Besides you're a fine one to talk! How many jobs have you applied for exactly, Miss 'I'm definitely giving up my job and starting a new life'?'
She has the good grace to look suitably chastened.
'It's complicated.'
'It's a man.'
'Well...'
'It's a man.'
'It might be.'
'You've just lost; you do know that? One marriage, 2.4 children, an A-Z of stretch marks and in thirty years you'll be wondering 'Would I have made a good teacher?' and 'What would life in China have been like?'
'Don't you dare start lecturing me! Why on earth did you go on the course if you're not even going to attempt to use it?'
Now there's an interesting question. Why did I do a course that turned out to be the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, Cost me a fortune and deprived me of sleep or sanity for 28 days? A course that I may never even use because teaching is not even a passion.
Good grief even mid menopause, I am forever obedient.
'Because my daughter told me to! Now can we please change the subject and organise our next reunion!'
