...and two come along at once

I have almost organised everything that requires organising (or at least, everything I intend to stick my oar into) for our wedding. It’s two weeks since I left my last job – and promise that I will, at some point, stop posting on Thursdays and mentioning that fact – and I was beginning to feel like I was about to run out of wedding stuff to do. Not that there’s ever too much to do (like Lucille who mentioned getting her wedding planner to source white highchairs!), but I’ve tried to draw a line. Anyway, I was thinking earlier this week that if I didn’t get a nibble for a permanent job by the end of this week, I’d spend next week focussing on finding some temporary contract/ locum work to tide me over October.

Then, this morning, when I was trying to work out when I’d have time to go to the hospital for another bloody blood test, the ‘phone rings. And when I was speaking to the lovely man from Michael Page, the ‘phone rang again. Once I’d responded to my answerphone message, I had two interviews lined up. One for tomorrow (eeek), one for a week Tuesday. And that’s on top of the “meeting” I already had tomorrow with another recruiter who is dangling the carrot of my perfect job in front of me (and won’t tell me about it until I’ve met him…).

So what with all the running around London I’ll be doing tomorrow, I have to cancel getting my nails done. We’re off to Mr W’s parents on Saturday for Rosh HaShana – and I know I’ve mentioned this before, but Mr W’s mother is very polished indeed. When on my hen bash last weekend I got my fingernails done and was looking forward to looking all elegant as well. Anyway, lovely as these nails were, they started to chip and as they’re relatively dark and in a colour I don’t have, I had to remove all the polish.

Four hours later, with curious red stains around my earlobes, I’m finally nude of nail – and have reached the decision that I definitely prefer painted talons. However I take comfort from the fact my nude nails will give interviewer the “ooh, look, serious professional” vibe rather than the “hellraiser” vibe, so it’s a good move [Note to self: borrow Becky's ball-breaker black framed glasses for the next interview]. There are unfortunately a couple of disadvantages. I was looking forward to seeing Mr W’s mother with some part of me looking finished and polished. Although she's single-handedly revamped my wardrobe, there's nothing in it that could be worn to a synagogue apart from the clothes I have from last winter which are tooo big now. The other downside is that we’ve got a party to go to on Saturday evening and I would have so loved to have had decent nails (have, however, got a gorgeous dress to wear to that, thanks to Mr W's mum).

If, after all the removing of nail varnish from nails, ears, shoes, I don't get this job tomorrow, I 'll know for sure that someone out there (up there?) hates me.

Now if you'll excuse me I have to go move one of the huge piles of crap which just slid to the floor, making it nigh on impossible to reach my keyboard. I'm not about to do anything *with* the pile, apart from pushing it sideways. I've got far more important things to do. Mr W's watching the Sopranos and the gory bits must have ended by now...