No. of words: 64,358
Ah, at least the words have gone down today instead of up, which is encouraging as am meant to be refining not adding more. Exposition breeds itself like bindweed, bloody stuff. Still, the three chapters should be ready in the next few days. I'll carry on with the rest in good faith with myself, but am already laying contingencies for when I give up the fight.
Namely applying for full time job. They're advertising for a mass-intake of arts and docs production co-ordinators, my old job at the BBC. This might not be at all sensible. I've already got myself in a bad tempered, frazzled snarl filling out application form, have sent off one rude e mail to BBC Recruitment, like WHY don't they advertise their grading scale anywhere? The first thing you want to know about a job is how much it pays, right? All they give is a grade, and no code anywhere on their site to decode it, not that I can find anyway. Or on Google. And then the length of the ad is absurd, the corporatespeak twaddle of it had me screaming. In the last bit where you had to sell yourself and beg and plead and say how keen you were, I just said words to effect that qualifications spoke for themselves. Snooty hnn, and will probably get me dismissed before the off. Maybe that's what I want. I don't know. I do quite fancy being out in the big wide world again, though, but maybe not that out. I'll let fate take its course.
Bye bye, thanks for visiting, come again soon.