Broke as f***

It's been a while. I've been ill. Not just sick of being out of work but physically sick. In fact someone is trying to strangle me. Nope, NOT paranoid delusions, just the cold I've got is all up in my head and is constricting my throat. Fed up.

I got an interview with a college to do some part-time hours of lecturing. Left my sick bed, travelled the 60 or so miles (am I obsessed with mileage? maybe I am) to the job interview, had to do a fake teaching session (!) and interview in front of 3 men. Got home and promptly threw up cos the cold licked my chest so hard, I took to my bed the whole night.

So they offered me the job today - they gotta check I dont mess around with kids, and to this day I dont know how many hours they will need me to do, how much they will pay me. Do I sound ungrateful? I was desperate when I applied  - no change since but I'm disappointed cos I'm not dead yet. Teaching is what i thought I might be doing once I'd had a couple of kids, say 6 years down the line. Not NOW when I'm in my media prime. But desperation wins. Hands down.

That guy from the radio job never returned my calls - WTF is going on in this world. Is it wise to drive 250 miles for £350? Not bad, is it really - doing that next week for a little job, praise the almighty lord.

I applied for 4 other jobs as well  - all of them at least 100 miles away from my home.

I got a killer programme idea though - just gotta get hold of the chick it centres around - easier said than done but I'm going to fight, fight, fight, fight, fight for this idea (damn Cheryl Cole)