A first: I had a job interview last week (that's not the first, more like the forty-lebbenth) in a gorgeous old school (architecture, oooh! Pilasters and plaster roses and carved doors, lovely nineteenth century Victorian). The first? The interview was conducted whilst I was sitting in a comfy armchair in front of a roaring open fire. Very cosy, especially given the frigid conditions outside. I likely won't hear the result for another week or so.
Had a busy week, cleaning my poor fingers to the bone in preparation for the annual inspection by the real estate agents. They need to ensure, after I've rented here for twelve years, that I'm not trashing the property, I suppose. It does mean that once a year I do a super dooper houseclean, so everything is now (very temporarily) minty fresh, tidied, dusted, vacuumed, de-cobwebbed, scrubbed. I even washed the kitchen ceiling, kind of, with the mop. I need a better ladder to get up there and do it properly, it needs more elbow grease than I can muster on the end of a long handle. And all the fabric I've had out over the last months, abandoned in front of the wardrobe, is now colour sorted and put away. I rather miss it :)
I'm 48, female, just finished a two year course in Visual Arts, and am now back in the market for a job (boo!). I worked in the library field for the better part of three decades and two years ago took the plunge from a job that made me unhappy to go back to school. I've loved every moment of it and as soon as I have enough money to tide me over being a poverty stricken student I'm going back for more!