Wish me luck

I have a job interview on Wednesday. The pay's crap and the job is sales which as many of you know I can do brilliantly but find less riveting than a Mills and Boon trilogy. However it's working on a magazine being set up by a mate of mine, looks really funky (the first front cover is an eye socket with lashings of glittery green shadow and thick black false lashes so naturally I'm hooked and have decided green is the new black), and there will be room for me to get involved on the editorial side potentially. Given the company currently consists of two people, I would be 3, it's a good time to get in and at the very least will get my hand out of the biscuit barrel and my adventuress revelling in a new town. I have said yes to six weeks, and assuming the one not my mate likes me (the mate naturally knows me enough to waver) will start a week on Monday.

It's in Edinburgh, a city I know a bit and like so far, bar the climate which makes East Sussex feel like the Med.

I have finally produced an article I am very proud of (as opposed to one that I can just put my name to), (on mobile phones, developing the stuff that started here) the novel is up running round my head again after a period of startling silence. Plus Mr make me want sausage has turned up on my doorstep with an engagement ring hidden in a giant bunch of red roses, attached to a hot air ballon which we rode in, attached to a jet writing 'Julie I love you, bugger what ma and pa think' in blue ink in the sky.

Only the last sentence isn't true.
Which is probably just as well as I always thought I would prefer a spontaneous mid snog on the heath / sexy bridge proposal than a sky writing one. Presumably as you only hope for one, it would be better to get something close to what you fancy don't you think?

I did however see the increasingly glamourous Ms West today. She had blossomed without me which is a tad on the irritating side but I decided holding it against her would be petty. It was good to see her, I wouldn't say it was a breeze, but it went far better that most first reunions with a former lover. There was no fighting, no re-dipping and a decent attempt at mutual empathy. We drank coffee and wine, played air hockey with my nephew, went to see our solicitor to tie up stuff with the house, ate cake, looked at photos of our trip and hugged hello and goodbye with the comfort of an entrenched friendship. Can't ask for more than that.

Julie x