I'm off hunting

Not Grouse, nor bear, not even rabbit. Currently I'm hunting for jobs. I've decided that the life of the freelancer, although it has it's charms is not for me and so I'm casting about for regular work for 'the man'.

I've even got a C.V. now, which is a bit of a result, I've managed eight years without one - it's amazing how many jobs I've 'found' in pubs.

I was half-hoping that I could continue in such a way but alas I think some goals, how ever stupid and noble sometimes must be cast aside. And so with heavy heart I started arranging a list of things I have done. it was a slightly different experience to when I last wrote my C.V. at the time I was fresh out of university and didn't really have any job experience so my C.V. was a loose collection of half-truths and willful misunderstandings to make me look more like the sort of chap who should have a job. It worked, eventually, after I wrote a covering letter that was, well The Brothers Grimm could have included it in one of their story books as it was so fanciful.

This time things are a bit better, I've got some actual experiences which is a good start so my resumé is made of hard facts, which makes the interview process less fraught - if I get to that stage. Currently from my applications I've had zero response but these things take time and the economic climate isn't quite a glowing as it once was.

Also as a sign of the new times I've dug out an old coat. It's a beautiful three quarter-length black number, with an absolutely stunning silhouette. I brought it years ago on the King's Road when I left an awful job and it seem some-how right that it should come out again. The coat was retired a few years ago so it's going to be taken to the dry cleaners and then it will be my interview coat.

Now that I've got the right sort of garment for serious work I'd imagine that I'm bound to find something soon.

101 Rabbits

In Peru when you click your fingers and other bones it's called releasing rabbits. I don't think rabbits in Peru click. I mention it because the creature and I are starting to work out the final kinks in our relationship.

Yesterday some neighbours came over for the afternoon. It was someone I used to work with and her boyfriend. We ate food, boozed about and it was very nice. The little monster skipped about sniffing all the new people and spent a lot of time trying to steal food from the low table.

hundreds of years of selective breeding to make the beagle a fantastic game hunting animal and it spends most of it's spare time trying to run off with pastries from the coffee table.

This is our final full day together, I'm only going to have one more night with it fighting to get into the bed and barking like loon the moment he sees a dog in the distance. At nights he likes to go on to the balcony and yap at other dogs across London, it's like that bit in the cartoon version of 101 Dalmatians where they send out a message dog to dog that the puppies are missing, but with out the charm.

I really hope I don't miss him when this flat sitting is over. That would be a terrible thing to happen, even worse than his doggy breath.