New Job, No Money (Part I)

Starting a job is... exciting? You're nervous, worried about what people are going to think of you, scared of offending someone by accident (I do this regularly) and unsure of everyday things, like how to find your way to the toilet and whether the milk is for general use.

What makes it SO much worse..is starting a new job absolutely broke. I did this this month. It doesn't seem like it would be too bad, except it's led to all sorts of issues.

On my first day I was told that I'd be taken down to the canteen for lunch and shown around. Now, January seems to be never ending and I'd run out of money about a week and a half before I started. I debated taking in lunch but that seemed sort of rude..and I didn't know the lunch etiquette. Maybe EVERYONE went to the canteen and bought lunch and I'd look like some sort of tight-arse, knit-my-own-slippers spaz whacking out a lunchbox.

So I embraced the possibility of the canteen. Except my manager never showed up to take me.

I realise this makes me sound about 5.. and L finds it panic funny that I didn't just go. But my reasons for not going are five-fold:

1. It's a big building and I had no idea where the canteen was.
2. I knew that wherever it was, there was a code to get in. A code I didn't know.
3. There was no one around to ask (they were probably all in the canteen).
4. What would I do when I got there? Where would I sit? What if there was nowhere and I had to eat my lunch in the toilet like in Mean Girls? Not only is that unhygienic but there's only two toilet cubicles that I know of. I wasn't planning on emerging from one with a plate.
5. What if my manager turned up to take me and I'd fucked off..too impatient to wait?

So I waited... and waited. At 1 o'clock my department had to start working again. At 1.30 he breezed in, apologised, and said "You got lunch though yeah?" to which I responded, "Ummm, no. But it's fine, I'll just, you know, eat when I get home. I'm not that hungry."

This was followed by a stomach rumble that he kindly pretended not to notice. Unless he thought it was a fart.

Oh god. He thinks I fart at work.

I'm doomed. R x

We're literally obsessing over..

THESE wedding photos by Janneke Storm on best-ever wedding blog, http://www.rocknrollbride.com.

Ainsley (the pink-haired bride) founded fashion agency Sticks & Stones (Facebook here) and Sebastien (the heavily bearded groom) now helps her run it. They met by chance in a coffee shop, said "I love you" after three dates and now are literally the coolest, hottest couple on the planet. Eff my single little (mostly) un-tattooed life.

L x

The sad reality.

We both spent a lot of last Sunday napping, cuddling up in my bed with DVDs and takeaway dominoes. Then, on finally sorting ourselves out and waking up properly around 5pm for a shower and some tidying, I retired pretty quickly back to bed and spent much of the evening hiding under my duvet wailing in an especially pained way about being single while R (so supportive) went through her entire Facebook friend list "selling" me all the single men she came across based on looks, financial situation, favoured ethnicity etc.

We realised two things whilst doing this.

1. We both have literally over 100 people on our Facebook pages who we don't recollect meeting EVER and wouldn't recognise them if they punched us in the face.

and

2. The reason I'm single is ME. It's not because I've not met the right person, it's that I don't WANT the right person; I'm clearly damaged and like to be treated mean.

The perfect man is totally THERE in my life, practically staring me straight in the eye, but I just don't get the "Ohh I fancy you" feeling with him that I think every girl craves. I wish I could be one of those people who really believes themselves when they say it's all about personality, but for me, the initial butterfly feeling and the "OMG he text me" excitement is so much more important. Damn it.

With Valentine's Day looming and R having bagged herself the world's most well-behaved boyfriend - a long time ago now - I re-downloaded the Tinder app last night, after deleting it a while ago in a weak EFF THIS moment, and I'm now making a conscious effort to match with people who look like they have nice personalities.

Also, I'm off out with my single friends this weekend to embark on a new year husband hunt and to forget a recent dalliance with a genuine idiot-from-birth IDIOT who made me eat too many sweets when I'm meant to be on a diet. I might make a perfect man checklist and take it out with me so I can do a mini interview with potential candidates on the dance floor.

L x

Fat fish... big pond.

We were going to call this post "Little Fish, Big Pond" but seeing as neither of us can stop eating, 'fat fish' felt more appropriate. Either way, we flew the nest in October last year and are now trying and failing to be responsible bill-paying adults.

This blog will document our sparse successes and numerous failings at everything everyday life entails. Prime example: Tonight's dinner involves Pizza (leftover from Saturday night), cheap wine (again, thanks to Saturday), a too-dry Pot Noodle, 69p Haribo gold bears and a handful of clammy chocolate buttons.

I managed to nab like ONE chocolate button before R ate them all. FML. L x

And last week we fashioned a poopa-scoop out of old brushes to remove the dog poo from our front step... which keeps coming back. Full story coming soon. We're watching you, unknown man with pooey dog.

Peace out. L & R x