Hell on Earth

Proof that this is a fallen world is found not in the existence of plague, war, or famine, but in job applications. I hate them. Attempting to write a letter explaining how wonderful I am and why I could do this job makes me feel utterly ridiculous. One day I shall be tempted to write “I could do this. Let me.” and see what happens. I now feel shattered after I went to bed after midnight last night having tried and failed to write an application for a job that I (a) know I could do (b) do not really want, but feel I have to apply for and (c) will not get because it will go to someone with more experience. And I want a new job, because I am bored.

On the plus side, I was so bored that I was able to force myself to write five hundred words of the Children’s Fantasy Novel (A prince! A witch! Wolves! Fur coats! Cannibalism! Backstory! Bad people who don’t walk around with Evil tattooed on their foreheads! Orgies if I can get away with it!), which I have been failing to get down to. I know what happens, I just find it hard to get around to writing it down. I think that this is because I enjoy making things up (my colleagues have stopped commenting on the fact that every time they drive past me I am talking to myself), but actually find writing a bit dull.

In other news, Hero Cat Saves Abandoned Baby. Personally, I tend to think that heroism should involve a bit more than meowing, although I suppose the cat did risk boots getting chucked at it. Alternatively, it could have just slept on the baby and waited until the morning. Nothing emits heat like a sleeping cat.