I had that interview today… I don’t know if I’ll get the job, but it’s very interesting – exciting – compelling – to see that there’s life outside the NHS. Healthcare workers might be the only people who suffer office work ideation. Dolly Parton’s 9 to 5 is our hymn. I’ve got sixteen official shifts left, taking me up to the 1st of December. You know what that means? Christmas off. Christmas off! But without having to give birth or be seriously ill or mortally wounded. Working Christmas can be okay… everyone’s in it together, and we wear silly hats or light-up earrings or other infection control-compliant and clinically appropriate festive knickknacks. And it beats eating sprouts with your once-a-year relatives, all disinhibited by that particular cocktail of endless Christmas drinks sloshing together in your belly: a glass of wine while you’re cooking; a beer while you’re watching telly; champagne with dinner; port with afters; you have to open the whiskey your in-laws gave you – you don’t really want to share it but it would be churlish not to, especially when you’ve just had some of that too-sweet gin liqueur someone gave your mum (she didn’t want to share it but felt it would be churlish not to). Add mashed celeriac, shake it up.
I’ve got an article to get in tomorrow, and two more for Monday. Operation: Consistent Writing Work is go!
My son (he’s 11) just asked me what I’m doing. I said ‘blogging’. He said ‘mum, do you even know what blogging is?’ then ‘It’s not cool. Vlogging’s cool.’