t felt. I actually had a little cry. But i didn't feel so much of a loser about this since my friend Tom (a 6 foot 2 rugby player) said he balled like a baby after walking unaided for the first time since he broke his leg. Ok, I'm not doing naked cartwheels quite yet..but on my way. I'm looking forward to the next stage of just walking with a rudeboy limp. I might roll my trouser leg up for kicks. Which one is it? What if I roll the wrong one up and end up getting oozied in a drive by between the village hall and Ted's fish and chip van. I need to research.Also things are looking up for phase two of my Summer London relaunch. My crossroads signpost (see last post) pointed towards jobsville and I got one!! A proper job, in telly and everything. So after 2 days of gnawing at my own wrists cold calling companies to ask them about thier parcel delivery system ('hello, I was wondering if I could have a minute of your t-...hello? hello?') I can claw back some of my tattered dignity. Just. Although I'm worried I've forgotten what to do, it's been 4 months! And if my interview was anything to go by - I actually went to the wrong company for it(!) - then things don't bode well for my organisational skills. Though if I do fuck it up I can just say, well you knew you were hiring an idiot to be fair.. So although I don't get to go on holiday, it does mean I get to move out of the parentals and be a proper grown up. Shit. Meals cooked for me, washing done, personal taxi service. Maybe I should get developing that munchausen syndrome thing...
