I flew down to London for an interview today, which was very cool. It may not sound like such a big deal, but it's still a new thing to me, to be able to get from one capital city to another in a little over an hour. I love to fly, but it's been years since I last took to the skies. There's something about giving nature the finger and defying gravity in a giant metal tube that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. My dad decided to come to. He told me that he wanted to wish me luck. I think he just wanted to have another go on a plane. Once at Heathrow, we had to get a bus to Feltham, where we could catch a train to Chertsey. We then decided to walk to where my interview was held.
The main thing we noticed about down south was how much warmer it is: it's danmed hot. I mean El Scorchio hot. We're Scotsmen, born and bred in the pissin rain - we're not built for glorious sunshine. To decide to walk a mile in sunshine that would shame the Sahara must have seemed like a good idea on the train, while we were still protected from the deadly UV rays, but honestly, what the hell were we thinking? Summer in Scotland means maybe a day or two of some sun struggling to come out from behind the clouds - down there it means summer.
Anyway, the whole interview seemed to go well, and I should probably hear back pretty soon. I remain cautiously optimistic, but at the same time I'm hoping I don't get a repeat of what happened last time I went for this kind of job - three days later the company declared bankruptcy. W00t.
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