Testing, testing, this is very testing…
Yes, I have indeed been convinced to open up my own blog rather than bore others needlessly. I feel like I have accomplished something by muddling my way around to get this thing up and running (I hope) with the aid of my friend Colin. I would link to his exciting page, but alas I’m out of blu-tack and I am not quite so sure as to how I would make a link. That being said I am still patting myself on the back for adding this to my list of household chores. It makes me feel rather like Martha Stewart, but, ya know, without the hard jail time, the prision sex, that whole making crystal meth in the bathtub thing and the billions of American dollars, as well as legions of adoring fans and, well, I’m sure you get the idea…
Well, I guess I should probably start by telling you about my day: After I brokered a lasting peace deal in the middle east and eliminated world hunger I went and slaved myself for the mimimum wage for a few hours at work. Luke’s mother was visiting for Luke’s birthday, happy birthday Luke; I quit! I feel bad for Luke, but if I stay much longer I fear that I will physically hurt Jasper.
The tale of the mystery soup:
Cleaning out the secondary fridge today we found a 50L pot of mystery soup. No one knows how long it has been in there, nor what it consists of, or even what purpose it was created for. It was frozen, which is probably what saved it from acquiring an aluminium taste (ergh) so I defrosted it in order to ascetain the quality of it. Curiously enough when I asked Jasper about it he pretended to have no idea, which is odd as he was the one who made it.
On the new job:
By this time next week I will have finished my first day at the new job where I will be a hot cook (yes, you can all hold your applause and giggles until the end of the paragraph). While I have had some experience in this type of job I always find myself rather anxiety-racked every time I am about to start something new. Furthermore I wonder how exactly I am going to survive, for while I will recieve a higher rate of pay I will be doing far less hours. I have three choices: a) skimp and scrape; b) get a second job (I have an in (no, not THAT kind of in! Well, actually, erm, nevermind!) with a guy at another cafe); c) go back to the restaurant and admit defeat. I tend not to think of ‘become unemployed and starve to death’ as an option.
<A href="http://www.therapyinthemaking.co.uk">Colin Brooks</A>
