Clarity?

I'm a little confused at the moment.

It seems I have a new job. It is, however, not certain.

I've been for three interviews, including the less-than-enjoyable HR interview this Friday gone; having pretended to go for a Doctor's appointment, proving that every cloud has a silver lining and my toe hasn't totally been a bad thing - having also facilitated the second interview somewhat indirectly. During the second interview the incoming Creative Director, Warren, (who I deeply suspect of being gay, but this is Design, you can never quite be certain) kept winking at me in a conspiratorial fashion. Ever since I first met him at the second interview he's been acting like my appointment is a done deal, in fact everyone has, except no-one has actually said it.

I've even been told by Warren to keep the 27th clear so I can come to a get-together he's having for what will be his, and my, new co-workers. He only starts officially on the 28th, you see.

This morning HR called to ask how much I'd be willing to contribute to a medical aid, implying they're calculating an offer for me. But none of this is 100% conclusive; I still can't count my chickens.

It's a little annoying and a little bewildering really.

In other news Tony and I hied ourselves off to Decorex on Saturday, me limping around in my slipper while we attempted to discover if, when, we have the joy of having to kit out a living space for the two of us how great the likelihood is that the relationship will end right there in a furious argument about the size, shape and colour of the couch. Fortunately it appears that provided I don't indulge in my fancy for tribal African fetish dolls, masks and cushion covers, or make the bedroom into an over-decorated Indian-themed boudoir of kitsch we should be fine. Sadly it also appears that our tastes run to far to expensive for our current means, although that could have a lot to do with the exhibitors generally not being in the budget category.

Despite still being mostly confined to wearing slippers, since all my shoes flex at just the wrong point, I am at least back to being able to drive. Although it is all a little silly what with me having to put on 'real' shoes to drive, and then take them off when I get to work, spend the day in slippers and then put back on the shoes to go home. Thankfully I don't have a formal work environment, or need to interact with clients. I have been catching myself glaring enviously at anyone in my vicinity who sports an attractive pair of heels though.

Finally. Yes, I know I'm often a little oblivious and slow. Especially in this case. I'd been half thinking I should take my name off this blog, seeing as there aren't a hell of a lot of web active people with my name in this world. Happy as I am Ticktock found me, there is no-one else I desire to have 'find me', especially not future employers and even more especially not my current ones. It was only really struck home when having contemplated this last Sunday I woke up on the Monday morning to discover the radio DJ (Gareth Cliff) having a long discussion on 'identity surfing' (not that he called it that) in reference to googling your dates. While I know that the VI crew are a leeetle behind the times, if the idea of googling for people is being discussed in the mainstream media it's time for me to stop being such a bloody naive idiot.