Hairy

A mystery application form appeared on my desk this afternoon with a note saying 'I really think you should apply'. It is for that job I mentioned - the Press Officer job? I might apply simply for the hell of it, but I don't honestly believe I have a hope in hell.

All interviews are good experience though, right? At least that's what people tell you if you fail to get yourself hired. How nice for people to have faith in you, when you doubt yourself at every corner. I will have to apply just so I don't let Lizzie down.

Today I feel useless and hot and hairy. I struggled to get my jeans on this morning because they'd just come out of the tumbler and also because I was already all sweaty, but initially I thought it was because I had gained about two stone over night - which of course sent me into a spin and set me up for a crappy insecure day. And my hair! It just will not behave itself - I'm like Bon Jovi's off cuts on legs today and I don't like it.

First stop after work - the bath. A lovely lukewarm soak in some bath salts and a thorough de-fuzz, deep condition, wash, brush, buff and polish methinks.

*Sigh*