Apparently my age has caught up with my experience and I am now to be considered for grown-up jobs. That is helpful. I will be re-entering the thrilling world of evil banking in the next month or so. (probably more dull than evil for a while) Meanwhile the exciting world of insurance also beckons. Worry not, if you are stuck in a lift or carpark in the USA, I will still be fitting that in for a while. 80 hours is a moderate week if you happen to be a former chef.
In the meantime, I have suddenly dropped a stone, so I am back in my corsets and on the supermix. The way I operate now seems to be based on the idea of the Holy Grail being supermix and a lot of water, and in the event that I am forced to socialise or very cold and upset, I eat low carb. Low carb no longer promotes any weight loss, however, so I think I have probably reached the age of CRON.
Now that I am back into my corsets, my back problem is improving, so more walking is getting done. It is rather hilarious that I have this particular kink, given that I still habitually wear men’s clothes, but all the more fun if you get me into a compromising situation I suppose.
Meanwhile, there are more pressing issues at home. Boris’s face needs shaving and dewrinkled, he probably needs a haircut with some handy nail scissors, the camera is still an issue – I have found when dealing with the public that the bigger the camera, the more they play to it so a big one is essential, and I think I have come up with a good strategy for the nation-wide project in terms of participation. Given that it is effectively an apolitical campaign, although it is cloaked as an art project, I suspect that I might get some help if I ask for it. I need to sort out my banner and am waiting to get my flags made.
So, although I am a bit weak and spindly and certainly a bit stiff, progress is being made.
Digging my reading at the moment, so there may be some more work on the books page soon.