Tuesday, July 31, 2007


My god, Carrie is broken-hearted indeed; she called me last night in a real state. I keep telling her that it's okay to grieve, because it is like a death. Now all the unanswered questions are surfacing - bitterness and anger taking over in short bursts. I stand outside this evidence of love and thank my stars that I am completely closed for this kind of business. It's just excruciating to watch, knowing that there's nothing you can do except stand by as support and wait, till she moves on, till she gets over him - till hell's fires blink out.

I am lounging in Amazon's new flat, using her phone line; I have arranged for BT engineers to come put in a line at Musician's but it'll be two weeks. Soon, the smoky air will assault my lungs as we clear out more of our ruined possessions, then it's off back to prepare Musician's flat for decoration; I'll probably be there a few months.

The interviews went well and I should hear by tomorrow if I've got the job the agency has put me forward for; if so, I'll begin on Monday. If not, they'll set me on to something else. It's all call centre, customer services stuff; I'm trying to avoid the sales work first; I'll take them if I can't get in anywhere else - I haven't really got experience in this field so will have to take what I get in the long run.

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