Lordy, it's Friday already

Busy busy.

And I didn't smoke for two days this week. Well, circumstances and all...

Tuesday I was all set for a nearly night before my interview, until Cad called and demanded I head up to a local wine bar. She isn't in town that often, and she was heading back to Liverpool the following day, so I had little choice but to head up. Cad and her neice worked through a portion of the packet of ten I bought after Cad ordered a second bottle of white.

Still, I wasn't chucked out from the interview room on the Wednesday morning, though my psychometric test may not have done me any favours. The killer line was "needs substantial administrative back up" which can only mean "we don't think this one can do up her own shoelaces".

They'd asked me if I needed any equipment to do a powerpoint presentation. I'd rather straddle a bendy bus down Oxford Street dressed as a cowgirl, than give a powerpoint demonstration, but with hindsight, I probably shouldn't have mentioned that.

Still, the bigwigs said they enjoyed it, so I went and bought these to celebrate. The only trouble is I'd bought a pair of sandals that were so comfy I wore them out of the shop (had to go back in and ask them to remove the tag) and less than an hour later had a massive blister on my left foot.

So for the time being they're strictly what my mother would call "sitting down boots". I'm off to Bristol in a bit, so I'm having to stuff them in my bag and keep on the look out for boot-wearing opportunities.

It was such an exciting day, I ended up asleep in the pub, and had to be carried into a cab. Still, I'm spending the weekend with a don't-smoke-or-drink-anymore teetotal, in a house owned by a psychic. Apparently it's all decked out in purple, so I might not be able to wear the boots inside in case I disappear into the decor.