Fucking forms - In the name of Thiago - Day 295

 

Look I know this is my fault blah, blah, blah leaving an application for a job until the day before it's due in but I absolutely do have a case for the defence. Okay it's a little flimsy but it's a case. 

The application process for this role is strange. It measures space in characters rather than words, it says that you can attach supporting information but then provides nowhere to attach the information. I've written too much. I've stuck to the task of matching job specification with my experience giving examples and outcomes but I've written too bloody much. Aaaarrrggghh.

I made enquiries about the role at the earliest possible opportunity, took advantage of the option of discussing it first, developed a strategy and then when I first had a full day at putting it together i.e. today sat down for several hours to complete it. I can now no longer look at it without wanting to commit a horrendous act of violence. Applying for this role is by any description a very long shot but I'm a believer that incredible things can happen to decent people. And after everything I've achieved this year, why not frankly. I seriously deserve something nice to happen to me at some point. Why not now?


Me and forms just don't go together well. I'm a brilliant communicator, an expressive and inspiring soul - other people's words not mine - but when it comes to this shizzle, I just get so bloody frustrated. My good lady Angelica gets it. She said to me this evening 'Darling they won't be interested in this, just focus on x, y and z'. 

'But x, y and z is a big pile of shit, for which I cannot demonstrate the outcomes that I need to show in order to demonstrate that I am the best candidate,' I unhelpfully but truthfully reply. 

The seriously bloody annoying truth is that my personal experience this year in making this fundraiser a reality during a global pandemic and pulling it off with dare I say, no little amount of style, belligerence and exuberance is quite the best example of any campaign anyone could wish to run. "But it's not what they want." Angelica reminds me. She's fucking right an' all. I can't even face going back to it after this blog to be honest but I've worked so hard at it, all in my own time, and I don't want to give in. A brew first I think after I've done this..

On a more positive note, I know a few of you for broadcast permission reasons and pure timing may not have seen this so I'm popping it up for you again. This was my appearance on Midlands Today this week, or one of them at least.


Another thing to happen to cheer me up today was to have a visit from my old mate Nuns. He drove up from Herstmonceux in East Sussex this morning, arriving here about 11 and turned round to return home from ours around half three. Thanks to an accident on the M40 on the way back, he's probably still fighting his way back as I write this. Poor bugger, that's both of us that have had a bit of a shitter for differing reasons.

Paul's been up for the day as he's dropped off his daughter Primrose to stay at ours for half term. Primrose and Elisa are such great friends. They are completely different characters but are really good for each other. They've known each other since they were babies as Nuns and Saffron are very dear friends of Angelica and I. There's an awful lot of water that has passed under the bridge with these guys and I'm thankful for having them both in our lives.   


Angelica treated to us all to a classic Brazilian lunch of chicken, beans and rice. I neglected to get a picture of Nuns. You'd know him if you saw him - he looks like a loon. A nice one mind. 

Angelica has a week's annual leave next week, so will be primarily responsible for keeping an eye on these two rascals. As the restrictions close in all around us geographically, we are more limited than we would normally be but it could be worse, we could be in Wales. I genuinely don't know who's handling the restrictions better now. One thing I do know is that if you're a government at the moment, you're damned if you do and damned if you don't. I'm quite happy being a humble comms officer at times like this. 

Elisa's so happy to have her mate Primrose with her - the visible lifting of her spirits is so obvious to see. I have my frustrations with her ladyship at the moment - I've said it before she doesn't really want all that much to do with me - but when she's happy, I'm happy. It's one of the things I most miss about Thiago. In spite of everything he was always so happy. His huge beaming smile would light up a room and those big brown eyes.. well the ladies would never have stood a chance! I miss seeing the happiness he just created by being the beautiful little boy that he was. Irrefuckingplaceable.

Ah well, now that I'm crying again, I'd better revisit this poxy fucking form. At least I haven't had that miserable fuck of a father to bother me with his interminable whingeing today. Christ alive, I've actually had a missed call from dad. Just no, just fucking no...

I just need to end by saying a huge thank you to Martin Broughton, more commonly known as Moose, for his outstanding athletic commitment and raising money for the cause. You and Kath are absolutely phenomenal sir and I am incredibly grateful. Please also thank your folks for their very generous donation in recognition of your monumental efforts!

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