1) I can NEVER get on the laptop.
2) I've been a bit busy.
3) I couldn't be arsed.
And I know that's 3 reasons. Truth is, I thought of the third one after I wrote the first 2, and it was too important to miss out.
So, what's been going on with me lately?
Funny you should ask......
I had a job interview recently. It was with a competitor of the company I work for, so a lot of "cloak and daggery" was called for. Hushed phone calls and emails. You know the sort of thing.
So, the big day arrives. I wake early, and head of to the bathroom to prepare myself for the big event.
I am amazed at my body's unique ability to turn on me when I REALLY need it. As I look at the mirror, there, staring back at me is the biggest, whitest and shiniest spot you could imagine. It's like I'm sprouting another me! This thing was HUUUGGGGEEEEE! And nestled right at the point where my nose meets my face, just below the eye.
This bugger was not going to be easy to shift. I reluctantly showed it to Mrs B.
Now my wife, bless her has few pleasures in life. Understandable being married to me I guess. But she loves a spot. Especially on MY face. She gets all excited, and a big, beaming smile spreads across her face. I suspect it's because of the pain she can inflict on me. A bit of payback.
"Turn to the light so I can get a look at it then" She says, wrenching my whole head around.
"OK, but if you are going to do it, just do it". "None of this half hearted poking and prodding which just prolongs the agony".
"Hold still, will you"
"AAAAARRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHH"
"Stop being such a wimp".
After about 3 hours of prodding, poking, and major digging, it's now bigger, whiter and redder than ever. I've stormed off with tears in my eyes. She is in a strop, having been denied "release". (She should be used to that by now!)
So, I shower, shave, and shampoo myself to within an inch of my life. I put on my new suit, my best shirt and tie, and my highly polished shoes. I admire myself in the mirror.
All I can see, is the damn spot. It is now an angry volcano, ready to erupt at ANY moment.
Resigned to the fact that it will only go when it's ready, I head out.
I arrive at the interview location in good time. I have about 15 minutes to kill. I check the mirror again. Yep. It's still there. As big and bold as ever. I also notice something else. Nasal hair.
How I missed THAT first thing this morning, I'll NEVER know. It's like a trifid is trying to escape my nose. Nothing for it. I have no scissors. I'll have to tug it out. I wind it around my fist 3 or 4 times (I did say it was big) brace myself, and yank.
The explosion of pain that I feel almost makes me pass out. Sweat is now free flowing from my face like you wouldn't believe. I breathe deeply, fighting back the tears. I check the mirror. The hair has gone, but at what price? I can't go to an interview looking like this. I'm a bloody mess!
I check the spot out again. Dare I give it one more go? I consider the possible consequences. If it does go now, it'll take out the windscreen for sure. And the thought of me going into the interview looking like I'd been in an accident at a custard factory decides it for me. It'll have to stay.
I head off to the interview a broken man. They'll never employ me looking like this. My eyes look like I've peeled a thousand onions. A spot on my face so red, it's stopping the traffic. I'm sweating so much, it's gathering in my shoes, making a sloshing sound with each step.
I pause at the door, take a deep breathe, and enter.
90 minutes later, I'm out.
I have just given one of my best interviews ever. I have NO idea how. OK, I wasn't nervous. I had WAY too much on my mind for nerves. And my interview preparation was certainly not something you'll ever read in any manuals.
I start the new job on Monday.
P.T.F.O.
