It's really not a good idea not to sleep at all the night before an interview. Not just any old interview. The interview for my job that I currently fill. My own job. And the tossing and turning in the night, finally getting off to sleep then realising via pain-metre that your left arm which wass frozen into place by cramp and cold didn't help for a peaceful nights sleep. This is mainly because my subconscious was kicking in as working at the university means that everything has to be done by the book, including vacancies. I had to reapply for the job which I've been fulfilling for the last four months. Slightly perturbed? Worried? More along the lines of bricking it. Cold sweats, shivers and sudden chills plagued my nights sleep and finally working morning until I was invited into the interview room.

The thing is, I need this job. I need it to pay for my Masters and to help out with the new house. There's little niggling things to do like tiling floors, building kitchens and paying for a new roof and damp proof course as the survey didn't pick it up. Girlpants, despite my playful mocking of him, is working hard on either on his job or in the home, so we need two incomes to make this work. And there was absolutely no guarentee that I would get it.

After much gnawing of nails, I had a formal interview in front of a panel of three and a skill test for 30 minutes scheduled for the morn. Not a huge chunk out of the day but with my nerves kicking in as I die at interviews kicking in and despite working most of the morning, my work was a blur. Apparently I got a lot of stuff on my things to do list done to ease the nerves but like wedding day jitters, I can't really remember the morning itself. As for the the moment itself, all I can recall is a plastic cup of water next to me as I tried to answer the questions directed at me.

As the heroine of this blog, of course, I got the job. Yay me!! I must admit that I didn't really expect to as despite working with people I really get on with for the last four months, I knew that they would have to choose the best person for the post which lets face it, may not have been lil'old moi. I've never been one to count chickens, so the wave of relief could have been surfed on in a Point Break situ with Keanu in a rather tight fitting wet suit, which meant that my day could only be surpassed by Johnny Depp standing next to him.

Mmmmmm - Johnny Depp.

So that was was my major high plus note. On a bad note part one however, Girlpants is on a jolly tonight so I have celebrate alone on pizza with cats on delux food (tuna). On even worse bad part two, my low self esteem promised myself to get me fit if I did get the post which bugger me means that the pain will work me from all sides as by my own argument means that I'm on a fitness drive.

Does this mean however that walking to work counts in lieu of gym?