Right After This

So I was expecting a horrendous first week back at work, but in all honesty, it hasn't been that bad. This is because after one day of being back, I felt as though I had never left. So because my work is all-consuming and sucks the life and memories out of me, I didn't have too much trouble settling back in. Hooray!

Also, I think I can finally say that both jobs that I applied for have brutally rejected me. The first has only sent me an e-mail to say "you will be contacted by phone if you have been successful in gaining an interview" (and this was last week), and there has been no contact whatsoever, which is a wee bit shitty given that this is the job in my own department, and I would expect that given I am one of their own I would receive a phone call, an explanation at least, and woah, what an incredibly long sentence, yes? My friend at the second job sent me an e-mail to say it had been filled, and that apparently they had had somebody in mind for it all along. He apologised for wasting my time. That one I am more disappointed about, as it was system development/project work, and that floats my boat.

Alas!

I shall continue on my merry way and keep an eye out.

Whilst I was at work, wearing uncomfortably tight work pants with an overhang of holiday pudge and a waistband so tight my circulation was beginning to fail, I picked up a flyer for a 10 week fitness challenge, starting next week. I immediately joined. I am actually quite enthusiastic about it, figuring that 10 weeks is a good block of time (long enough to make a difference, short enough to see the light at the end of the tunnel), and that I can get in tip top shape and parade about in front of everyone in hot pants and bikini tops in no time! Good plan? Chance of success = shaky. But if I can at least lose my Thai green curry jiggle then I will be happy.

Lovely Lucy recently posted about her Lady Maintenance regime and I was left feeling woefully inadequate. I thought about my own beauty routine, and realised that it consisted of the following:

• Haircuts, when I have too many split ends and it looks too ratty.
• Showering, daily.
• Brushing of teeth, morning and night.
• Waxing of the sacred lady area, at home, when I have too many split ends monthly.
• Shaving of the underarms/legs, when I am going to wear an outfit that will reveal these areas (for real. In winter, they might not see the light of day for a couple of weeks).
• Eyebrow plucking, when needed (well, when I notice).
• Chapstick, when my lips are dry.
  

And that's it. No make-up (though every time I look at the dark lines under my eyes, I consider it), no skin care routine (besides shower gel which smells like mangoes, or some type of fruit), and no visits to the beautician to speak of (I have been professionally waxed once, had a reaction to whatever they put Down There and spent the following week scratching my crotch like a frenzied whore with crabs). And as Lucy is low maintenance, this can only mean that I am a hairy truckie named Barry with questionable personal hygiene.

Sexy indeed.