Well, it's time to think about some, right after I apologise to Katie for giving her my cold. Ahem.
Katie, sorry for giving you my cold, dude.
I'm glad we got that out of the way.
A job has come up in my home town, and I'm interested in it. I was interested in it last time it came up, but too late to do anything about it; so I'm going to apply for it this time and see what happens.
I know the last person in the posy would probably recommend me for it; I'm reliably told she has a lot of time for me. Her opinion would carry a lot of weight with the position as well, I suspect. So that helps.
But it would be a hell of a diversion from publishing, which I have been doing for the last 20 years. A big, big change, to something that is not quite completely unique but not far from it. But it would be fun, a constant challenge, and would see me dealing with people out and about a lot more, rather than sitting home alone most of the time. And I wouldn't have to deal with any publishing kind of people, who largely do my fucking head in. And I wouldn't have to travel abroad much either. Yes, that always sounds glam and great, but it really is not. I once caught a cold on the way to Sofia via Stockholm. By the time I landed in Sofia, the cold was in full flow, and I was completely deaf in one ear. I was there for 16 hours before my flight back, again via Stockholm, then I had to go to Coventry (a true shithole) for more work before getting home three days later. There is nothing glamorous in that trip, nothing at all. Hotels are the same everywhere; they're mostly shite. Except the Mandarin Oriental in Macau. Wow.
I wonder how much the other job pays?