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Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Well, I'm thirty-five, and I have a lot of people to thank.

Something FishyThere's the person who thought a photo of a plastic fish would do instead of a present, the person who sent me a piece of fudge three weeks past its sell-by date, and the person who gave me a bottle of wine ten days after I told them I don't drink.

But there have also been lows. Most notably the fact that both my aunts have stopped sending me money now that I've got a job. Frankly that's no excuse.

On the plus side, I did receive a total of twelve cards, which is not bad going when you consider that I only know about ten people. And eight of them signed the same card. In addition to the wine, my work colleagues gave me a box of chocolates and a £15 George voucher, so they've clearly noticed that I'm fat and I need some new clothes.

Lisa and I celebrated the arrival of middle age (if I live to be three-score years and ten) by eating copious amounts of pizza on the sofa, and I continued the celebrations by having it again today for lunch. And dinner. I knew we shouldn't have ordered so much. I struggled to eat the flapjacks at work.

But on the subject of work, I've now met a total of eleven candidates for the new job, ranging in age from 18 to 57. Which is what happens when you're not allowed to discriminate against children or old people. Two of the expected seventeen cancelled, three didn't turn up, and one phoned six hours after his appointment to say that he had been there on time, but he couldn't find the right building and didn't have enough credit on his mobile to give us a call. We politely refused to see him.

Having been locked in secret talks with my boss for half an hour this afternoon, I actually know which one we're going for, but sadly I'm sworn to secrecy. Mainly because after meeting us all, they'll probably turn us down, and we'll have to phone back the one who got lost.