Monday March 24, 1975

Rather a nervous day today. On my arrival at the YP Lynn rings me from home to say that a Mr Simpson from Greenwood's wants me to contact him about the job vacancy. I immediately do so and he asks me to go for an interview at 10.30 tomorrow morning. Eileen takes her driving test then, so I ask whether I can go today. We plan a meeting for 5pm. I receive Royal permission from Sarah to leave at 1 o'clock, and come home for lunch.

Mum says that poor Sue didn't get into Nursing College, and that Lynn is having at interview at Barclays Bank at 4.30 today.

At 3 I leap into the bath to make myself presentable for the coming onslaught. You never know, it might be Bye Bye YP before the month is out.

Meanwhile: Later the same day. No, it won't be Bye Bye to the YP at all. In fact, the Yorkshire Post is like Heaven in comparison with the Greenwood Empire. On my arrival at the dreaded place I met a Mr Simpson. He informs me that 'Mr Denis' (whom I presume is Mr Denis Greenwood) 'doesn't like long hair' and so if I should be employed therein, it would all have to go. This didn't amuse me much. I nearly died with laughter on being informed that my wage would amount to £18 at the start and would increase to the vast Onassis-like £20 on my 20th birthday. In other words, a slump of £6 would be awaiting me at the Greenwood's Empire. The prospects too are non-existant. I'll dwell on the subject no more today. I can't wait for the cheerful call of the Yorkshire Post tomorrow morning.

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