Hmmm... hmmmm.... hmmm... trying not to let the waves of despair swallow me up like a jilted mermaid. I received a text message from that job saying 'Hey I have not forgotten you, I have other persons to meet. I will talk with you on Friday evening or you need to know yes or now immediately?'
My preferred answer would have been IMMEDIATELY, MY SANITY IS HANGING ON BY A THREAD but this sort of reply has the potential to put prospective empoyers off, so instead I texted her back saying Friday would be fine except it might be difficult because I am travelling back to England for a week, but I am still interested in the job.
But then I wouldn't be able to start asap so basically I am fucked.
Oh and did you know there is a fucking Second Revolution happening in France? Oh yes, I only found out today when I got caught up in a protest on my way to pick les enfants from school. There were millions of riot police hanging about which I took no notice of as I have got used to there always being hilariously-dressed futuristic space warriors hanging about. Paris is after all the city where people love to strike and protest. However this time something was different. I battled through the tide of banner-wavers as they marched down the road I need to cross to get to the school. After picking up the two kids and taking them to the park for an hour, there was still a heavy flow of people traffic. This means the line of protesters was at least an hour long. Not only were there protestors marching and singing and snarling at the riot police, but there little huddles of French people holding pink flares. (As in the firey SOS device, not the Comeback Queen of the trouser department) I'm not a pyrotechnician, but I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to prance about in a waterproof fleece holding a fucking flare.
The au pair mum and dad have gone out to a dinner party or some shit so I got my mum to ring their house phone so I could chat freely and bitterly. My mum told me there is a fuel crisis and that all the oil riggs are being barricaded so that it is nearly impossible to get out of France. She said they have cancelled half the flights from Charles de Gaulle so now I feel very panicky and also very fat as I have eaten 12 chocolate cookies today and yesterday I spend FIVE EUROS on chocolate eclairs.
So I'm fat and stuck in Paris with a family who fed me grated carrot for dinner plus the soggy cauliflower I refused to eat for lunch. I feel like a nine month year old baby and a fat whore at the same time.
What am I supposed to do? FUCK THE FRENCH AND FUCK VEGETABLES. Jumping in the Seine is very appealing at the moment, because at least if I commited suicide in Paris, people would forget all the cringey things I do. Seriously, how inappropiate would it be to say at my funeral 'Remember when she shagged that coach driver in Corfu?' or 'Remember when she put her hand in that guy's mouth when they were kissing?'
Very inappropriate indeed.