Madame Butterfly

These are exciting times.

This morning I attended an interview for a part-time marketing role that is both interesting and fun, in an attractive local company. They actually liked me. No, truly. To the point that they offered me the job. I am beyond excited. Obviously, full-time money would be better, but it's enough that I can sign-off, as the salary easily replaces the mortgage insurance (and some).

Resisting the urge to burst through the JC doors, yelling 'So long, suckers!' I err on the side of caution. After all, I don't have the contract in my hand yet. How foolish would I feel coming back shame-faced in a fortnight, hoping they will have forgotten?

I take my seat in the waiting area. And wait. And wait. It's stifling again, so I fight the tedium by people watching. My good fortune has made me talkative, so I strike up a conversation with a large lady sitting next to me. She walks with the aid of a stick and has been out of work for over two years. Apparently, her disability means any potential employer has to jump through all sorts of 'elf & safety hoops, which must make her difficult to place.

After she moves off I spend a few minutes listening to Adorable Emma attempting to facilitate a three-way conversation between herself, a claimant and an interpreter. The woman, who sounds Spanish, has a toddler in a pushchair next to her and the girl is screaming and fractious. I know how she feels.

I really am feeling very sociable and find myself chatting to a young man with terrible teeth. He got fired from his last cleaning job, but is rather vague as to why. I have my suspicions, but don't voice them. Just then, a glorious sight. The exotic Oriental comes in and sits down and I goggle at today's ensemble. A huge straw hat, maxi skirt, black lace socks and silver sparkly plimsoles. All clashing marvellously with the sequin bag from last week. Honestly, she looks like she pulled everything from a dressing-up box. What a vision. I absolutely love her.

Sean gets the short straw today and I sit down opposite him and let him enter the double-figure apps from the last fortnight into the ever-ravenous system. I can't wait any longer and tell him all about the job offer, but say it's just an offer right now and I still need them to confirm my unemployed status right up to start date, for insurance purposes. Yes, he can do that, but can I come in and sign-off on the day I start working? I hesitate, in case it's a trick question. 'Err, no, because I'll be working.' Ah. Pause, whilst Sean processes this. I'm full of bright ideas, so I suggest I 'phone in on the day I start work, just to confirm. This, evidently, comes a poor second to absenting myself from my new employment on Day One, but I smile in what I hope is an engaging manner and Sean agrees to this compromise.

I glance around at all the familiar faces and say that I'll miss everyone and I had been hoping to make it to the staff Christmas do. Sean doesn't seem to do irony and says he would love to take me to the staff Christmas party. He's a sweet boy.

If all goes well, this should be the penultimate blog entry. I still have my 'exit' 'phone call to navigate, but I should not be coming back here anytime soon. I feel like I've had more than my fair share, to be honest.

As the Farmer said to Babe, 'That'll do, Pig. That'll do'.