I had started to write a post complaining how Postcrossing were ripping me off (even if it's free) and I hadn't received a single postcard for the two I had already sent. I now take it all back -- I am in possession of a postcard that has travelled all the way from the Netherlands. You could probably hand-deliver it quicker than it takes to post, but either way my first postcard has been received from a 35-year old Dutch lady who is married with two cats.
I sent my third postcard off today to a 16 year old in Finland who particularly requested postcards with images including churches, castles and cities. I found one of Colchester castle, which I believe is one of the oldest surviving castles in Europe and certainly the largest. I filled the postcard with information about this, and how Colchester is the oldest recorded Roman town. Maybe more information than she needed, but hey. I'm tempted to request readers here send me unused postcards from around the world, just to really confuse the recipients...
In other news, after a week off last week I had a new freelance contract on Monday. For one day. I spoke the guy last week, didn't much like his tone of voice/attitude but figured they don't pay me to like them. I could put up with pretty much anything for a day, and we said we would play it by ear for any further work. The agency turned out to consist of only three people, and one of the people I later found out was a temp, and was also just there for the day. The other two employees were the joint-directors, and spent almost the entire day out of the office in meetings.
The work itself was the usual fare, and nothing remarkable -- although when the guy with whom I'd arranged the day's freelance work with arrived back at the office (mainly just to tell us employees we could go once we'd sent him an update on what work we'd done that day), one of the last things he said to us both was he would be in touch. Since he hadn't made any mention of further work, I thought this was strange and instead wondered if rather than freelance work the day had really been a kind of job trial. A strange kind of job trial if you don't hang around to see how someone works, but I have been invited back for another day's work next week -- with the hope he might see something of me this time, and possibly some work next month. If it wasn't for the fact I need the money and need the work, I could take it or leave it -- but isn't that how most people feel about work?
It's just as well then that today I was applying for various jobs in the South of England and found one going in the much-lovelier area of Brighton. I applied, they called me back, and so I'm in the car and driving south for an interview this Friday. I might then decide to stay in Portsmouth for a day or two, since several of my friends are out of town this weekend for a wedding of an old school friend.
And just to make things that little bit more interesting, the illustrious Lyndsay (of Pablo Neruda Sonnet XVI fame and whose beauty I once likened to the sun on the French Alps) has unexpectedly re-emerged. I guess if I'd remembered it was July 4, and she would possibly be visiting relatives, I might have expected her to pop up -- but on both counts, I didn't. The reason why visiting relatives might cause her to make an appearance is she has no internet at home. But after a whirlwind conversation, taking in why I was celebrating Canada Day last week when I'm not Canadian, Napoleonic history and The Count of Monte Cristo, what she's decided she wants to do with her life, and her plans to possibly move and study in England, she's promised to write me a letter to catch up properly.
Finally tonight in other news, I have looked once again at therapy. After consulting my doctor about it several weeks ago, I decided to do it myself with neuro-linguistic programming, but recently have noticed when things don't go my way I could perhaps do with sorting some issues. So I called a therapist, specialising in NLP, and they told me all about it -- before getting to the point: how much it would cost. It's only £295 for a two-hour session, and of course they think I might just need two sessions. So, umm, yeah -- maybe not? I need to call another place, that my doctor recommended specifically, and I've a feeling they might be ten times cheaper -- if I remember correctly. Summer will come again, I can be happy.
No comments:
Post a Comment