EDITOR'S NOTE: This is all part of the "THINGS I CAN'T BLOG ABOUT" season, and shouldn't be up here at all, but dammit, I can't think of anything else to write, so a good old-fashioned whinge will be appearing in place of any other kind of constructive posting.
I used to have a theory a few years back that one ex-friend of mine had a voodoo doll of me, and would every now and again sever something, or tie something up, or do whatever it is that you do with voodoo dolls to cause minor pain, inconvenience or irritation.
Today, because I'm feeling all paranoid and frustrated and helpless and generally out of sorts, I've come to the conclusion that I must have done something quite horrible in a previous life, like kicked a tramp to death or somesuch, that I'm now being punished for. The punishment seems to arrive in relatively minor forms, things on that the scale of things don't really seem too hideously awful - I've got a roof over my head, and a some iota of health - but still have the effect to really upset.
(Ah, vague posting - where only a select number of people know what I'm on about. I put these up here to remind myself when searching through the archives how much things used to suck and how much better they are now, in the future, with my future self smiling back indulgently and looking all smug and happy. That's the theory anyway.)
In other news, I may have gone and got myself a part time job, depending on references. The problem of getting references now lies with my recruitment agency, rather than with me. They're ringing my last three listed employers, but I haven't worked for any of them for over a year, and one of them I left under very acrimonious circumstances in April 2003. So they'll be lucky if they even remember me, let alone give a reference, let alone give a good reference.
But the job is only data entry, so surely they don't need to know that much? I can mindlessly type numbers in to a ratty computer programme with the best of them.