All over

I didn’t get the job. I apparently made a good showing. (Although I didn’t think so. Bunny-in-the-headlights. Oh, yes. I am sure they could smell the fear…)

Honour is satisfied.

I did my best, and I tried hard for Mr L. I am at least 20% relieved that I don’t have to go to work – I like my life just the way that it is – and at least 40% sad for my poor beloved who really did have his hopes up, due entirely to his wholehearted belief in me as always being the best candidate – for anything at all! The rest of me is, I guess, undecided. I admit that there is a part of me that had picked up on Mr L’s excitement at the prospect of clearing the mortgage and feeling secure some time in the near future. That’s the middle bit that’s wobbling, I think. The part that doesn’t relish the idea of leaving the island, or of living in a van for several years. But it’s OK. There is another part of me that really thrills at the notion of being a vagrant.

Everything is OK. It’s always OK, isn’t it? We always have each other. That’s all that really matters. I really fell on my feet when that man clubbed me over the head dragged me back to my cave. Well done, Mr L.

Time to cancel that yarn subscription anyway. Perhaps now I’ll write that blockbuster novel that is going to make us rich – and me the next JKR…

…or I could put a lottery ticket on.

Selling my body is right out of the equation.

Oh, and I have to say that the panel made entirely the correct decision. It is also the one that I would have made if I had been in charge. I wish our new LDO every success and good luck in the post and pledge my full support and assistance, as a Board member and resident of the community. I am genuinely delighted for them.

Do you think that a pair of vanilla fudge coloured (I refuse to term it “mustard”!) Earl Grey socks, hand-knitted with love, will be suitable compensation for Mr L’s squashed dreams of financial solvency? I could get started on them straight away…

Recently, at the: Crooked House

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