A letter arrived from Viking Taverns asking us to attend an interview at Hipperholme next Wednesday. My knees rattled together as I went off to my daily labours feeling much excitement. Poor Ally doesn't have any days owing and will have to approach the nauseating Derek. I sat smugly at the YP. I am going whether I get the Viking job or not. I have always vowed to be gone from the YP before my tenth anniversary, and that auspicious event occurs in October. Ally phoned this morning and spent ten minutes trying to persuade the switchboard to put her through. It's now policy to put no calls through to the library before 2pm - except for branch office calls. Such a bore.
To Greenhead's book shop. I'm obsessed with diaries: Leo Amery, Beatrice Webb, Noel Coward, Joseph Goebbels - I want them all.
Today is National 'No Smoking' Day and to mark the occasion Mrs Slocombe sat blowing out smoke like the Vatican chimney on election night. Sarah's (illegible) is becoming too tiresome.
Tonight we ate baked potatoes with cheese and shrimps and yes, salad again. Goose pimples thinking about our interview. She hasn't told Derek yet.
Old Dame Eva Turner was the subject of 'This Is Your Life'. I escaped to the bathroom to avoid 'Dallas' and Ally took out the iron again. We are like a laundry here.
I don't discuss current affairs and my opinion of them these days, do I? Well, I'm very anti CND, and very anti Andropov, Foot and Haughey. I also fail to see why the kidnapping of a racehorse should be the main item on the 9 o'clock news. The forthcoming nuclear holocaust has been pushed into the background by this Irish 'equestriana'. The missing horse belongs to the Aga Khan. George Bush has been to see the PM. Should Ronald Reagan, 72, die in his sleep he'd be the most powerful chap to walk the earth since Michael Parkinson.
And so to bed.
-=-
No comments:
Post a Comment