Where is the love....

It is pissing rain all morning - the sort of rain only Dublin can provide - from a grey and dark sky that forebodes that there is plenty more up there, where that came from. I'm wet through. I've been splashed on by kerb-hugging taxis and the DART was hot and sticky and I've a damp spot on my back from being too up close and personal with a fellow commuter's sopping wet rucksack.

I've an interview in twenty minutes and I'm not looking my best. It is a job I really want, 'cos it is the job I've been doing for the last year and ... well I think I'm pretty good at it. (Don't you just hate having to interview for your own job? It just sucks. Note to self : The first politician who canvasses at my door and says he/she is going to strengthen employee rights is going to get my vote!)

Ordinarily, I'd be more than a little sour this morning. What with the rain, my ruined interview suit and the prospect on not keeping my own job. But I'm strangely calm and serene. I believe that God is good - even if we don't always realise the wisdom of her ways. I know that it will take more than a damp Regina number and soaking Bally shoes to distract the interview panel from my brilliance.

"Miss Harrison, can you give examples of your commitment to a career in marketing?"

"Well, there is the fact that I've abandoned my social life over the past six months and prioritised the 'Rising' account over my blog buddies!"

"Mmmmm. Interesting. So you think web-based delinquency more important than persuading the Irish public to fly Aer Arann do you?"

"Guilty as charged, m'lud!"

Thanks a bunch to you brilliant blog buddies. I know that I've said it before but you are the best.
Talk soon,
Paige