Porta-potty

I’m knackered. Last night I barely got any sleep. I found out that I got the job interview that I really wanted which of course I’m over the moon about. But last night I lay awake fretting about having to move down to Cornwall without my partner and the dogs and having to take temporary digs so I can find us a house to buy…

Of course I should be taking one step at a time i.e., going to the interview and trying to get the job in the first instance. But if I can run before I can walk it’s the usually the route I prefer to take.

We’ve discussed this of course. In fact I’ve blogged about it recently, but it’s a really big deal to live apart from your family. I love being with my wife and I love having the dogs around and there is a very strong possibility that for a month or two we won’t be living together and frankly, that sucks.

The interview is in Bristol so no trip to Cornwall this time (although that’s where the job is based). Anyway, I shall go looking fabulous, with a great presentation and oodles of skills and let’s hope that’s enough!

Today has – with the exception of an in-car kettle – largely been about name changing. I’ve got two bank accounts and needed to tell them my new married name. Just driving licence and passport now and that’s the main stuff done. I spent so long in bank and post office queues I considered taking up squatters rights just to demonstrate my displeasure at only two counters being open and four staff standing around chatting and ignoring customers. Customer service is a paper exercise which means nothing to any bank I’ve ever had the misfortune to deal with.

My mum wprries that because of the amount of travelling we do that one day, on some motorway, everything will grind to a halt, the snow will start to fall and we will be trapped for 8 hours. Consequently she has just bought us an in-car travel kettle for just such an occasion! True, if I were trapped for 8 hours on the M4 a cup of tea might be nice, but the worry is you sit there having endless cups of tea you then have to pee on the hard shoulder in front of several hundred equally trapped, equally bored and equally annoyed drivers… maybe we’ll get a porta-potty to be on the safe side…