Wednesday, September 25, 2013

I’m sick… Need 12 step program. Stat.

the setlock pictures kill me

The girl who thought Kate Spade was a person and not a brand knows:

John wears jumpers that Martin Freeman picks out.

Moriarty wears Westwood.

Sherlock wears Spencer Hart suits, Dolce and Gabbana shirts, and that coat? That amazing, wonderful, coat? A Belstaff.

——

Applied for a UK accounting job. 99.9999999% sure I’m not qualified, but maybe the recruiter might find something I’m a fit for.

I have a job interview on Tuesday, and I’m meeting with Jimmy The Pimp’s boss on Monday.

I don’t even care any more… I don’t want to be unemployed, but I am so done with looking for work.

——

Aaaaand, since someone asked:

The most adorable lisp. EVER. (Once it’s been pointed out that he lisps when he’s tired, or animated, or that he flat out struggles with ‘sp’ sounds, you can’t help but notice it. After repeated viewings. Of course. What? It’s research. For science, Jawn!)

 


——

I’ve taken to walking on the furniture. I do not know why, but when I do, I yell, “THE FLOOR IS LAVA, JAWN!” (Original image here.)

The neighbors must think I’m out of my fucking mind.

I think they’re right.

Posted by Matty on 09/25 at 03:42 PM
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LOOK! STILL ALIVE!

mmm… david ten-inch

Woke up ass early today.

Managed to get out of bed.

Introduced the most adorable lisp in the world to my CP fan fic.

Screamed at the computer when my blog, Firefox, Safari and then my internet connection all fell to shit. Then, while trying to apply for a job (using their handy “apply now!” bullshit), the web site kept bouncing me back to the log in screen.

*sigh*

I’ve had two recruiters reach out to me today. Both left messages. Neither has called me back.

Jimmy the Pimp - my most favourite recruiter in the world - isn’t working for that company any more. I sent a break-up email because I hadn’t heard from him in four days, and that’s really unusual for us. (I know it’s me - you can’t place me because I’m pathetic sort of thing), and his boss called me. HIS BOSS. To apologize for not reaching out to me on Friday, Monday, or Tuesday.

Also - almost wrote a cover letter to an international company that began:
Why do I want to work for you? That’s easy. I want to get the fuck out of the US and move to the UK. This isn’t a snap decision - you can see this desire in my journals and it goes all the way back to my first visit to London in 1992. Please, please, please, hire me and then immediately transfer me. I. WILL. CLEAN. TOILETS. FOR. A. TIER. TWO. VISA. NO. LIE.

Decided to delete it and go the grown up route.

I do have a lead on an international recruiter that’s advertising for a job locally… I’ll probably call him in a bit and just see what there is to see.

I have an interview tomorrow that I’m trying to get excited about, but I just can’t… I’m tired of getting my hopes up to just be let go because “it’s just not working out.”

I dunno…

(This appears to be a regular daily update type series thing for those of you who have expressed concern about my mental state. It is much appreciated, but I’m fine. Honest. Just a little blue. Like a smurf.)

Posted by Matty on 09/25 at 11:53 AM
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