So yesterday was total crap you guys. Total crap. Just one of those days where I was angry and sad all at once, and unable to reconcile those feelings with anything seemingly good. If you follow my twitter (I feel stupid typing that…derpderp), you know that I had a job interview, and I accidentally got on the wrong train on the way to that interview (not as bad as it sounds really, just a mis-step). I don’t feel like I rocked the interview, but worse than that is that this is the only place to have even asked me in for an interview so far and I just…don’t really want the job on offer. Blasphemy, I know. And maybe I would love it…but probably not. It was an office in the back of a very, very sad warehouse conglomerate in a sad little town and I just can not picture myself working there, and commuting there everyday. I won’t know anymore about the job and if they even want me until next week-they were interviewing 5 others-but I have to say I won’t be disappointed if they offer it to someone else. It was a disheartening first interview in England.
So let’s talk about that part, too, since that’s part of what made yesterday suck. Talking to (many, not all) British people. “Hiyaaa” instead of “hello”. “Cheers” instead of “goodbye”. Lots of interruptions. Smirking. I. just. don’t. get. it. And I don’t want to insult anyone, so I’ll just stop now. Maybe this is a thing I’ll get used to. But is this how all British people are? Really? People look at me weird when I say “thanks” or “bye” because they’ve already said cheers and they’re totally over the conversation/transaction. Is this normal, British friends? Am I just seeing all the wrong people out at the shops and on the phone and at the doctor? Help me please.
I think that’s enough whining for now. Even writing it out makes me a little disappointed in my bad attitude. Oh well. Everyone has a bad day, amirite? Today is bound to be better-we’re about to leave to go take measurements for our new apartment, then head up to Ikea (again!) and actually buy things. Exciting stuff! And I’ve also almost kicked this stupid chest infection to the curb, and my blood is basically made of Robitussin at this point. I would probably kill someone for some good ol’ Nyquil though.