Dear internet, I have gone and done something very stupid. I got a job. I know, I know what you are thinking. When will I blog? How will it affect my blogging? Well, this all could have been avoidable if you had just paid me to blog, see? Then I wouldn't have had to sell myself to science.
I am of course plagued by many doubts and anxieties, all of which are very neurotic and are impairing my ability to think coherently and should not be written about here. Especially not how the hell I am going to learn to wake up at non-existent times again, and we were planning to leave the UK next year but the contract is for two years, and I have forgotten EVERYTHING, and I am a fraud, and the place I will be working at is the most prestigious and famous institution of its kind, probably in the world, and what for the love of Spot the dog possessed them to pick me, the dazed and confused sea monkey who can barely remember her name???
But instead of spewing my neurotic drivel all over your screen I am going to be filled with positivity. After all, in my last job I only set fire to a super expensive explosive machine twice. And nobody died.
The world can sleep safely tonight in that knowledge. And in the knowledge that I will not be working with any kind of infectious diseases or black holes that may expand and swallow us all.
P.S. Of course there is a plus side to this job thingy; we may move out of Poo Palace, as one of my friends so aptly termed our block of flats. No more arsonist. No more mafia. No more Celine Dion karaoke.
P.P.S. But then what the hell will I talk about at dinner parties?
