"You hear laughter breaking through, it makes you want to fart. You’re heading for a breakdown, better pull yourself apart. " - John Cooper Clarke

Scary. Very scary.

Yesterday I went for an interview for a job that, although wasn’t a job that I would normally go for, was nevertheless, a job. It seemed like a pleasant place to work and I gave it my best. As usual, I won’t hear until next week, but then, that is better then some interviews that I have been to and then never heard a peep from the interviewer again.

Tatiana knew about the interview and made me promise to tell her how it went, which I did, thinking that it went pretty well, considering it was done entirely in my rusting French. But the reply from Tatiana scared me witless:

“Well, if it went fine great! And you can’t do any better so…. If you want to call me you can.”

The girl is taking over and has even started using expressions that I use when the children sit an exam or something – “did you do your best? Then there’s no need to worry because you can’t do better than that.” This growing up lark is beginning to take over and I feel like the child now. Perhaps it means that I’ve done a good job so far, although there’s a lot of work to be done on Todd who is only excellent when his alpha-male kicks in. Or whatever it is.

Now. How do I train my daughters to tell me when they’re eating at home or not?

Update: I received a job rejection yesterday and the director at the job that I went for in this post called me today saying that I was amongst the top three candidates – but they chose someone who can speak Flemish as well. I feel like giving up.

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