Don't go on strike Mr Bus Driver!

My darling friend Antonia ventured out to IKEA yesterday evening to do a spot of home-shopping. When she came out, doubtlessly several hours later, the tube had stopped prior to the 10th June tube strikes in London.

I'm fortunate enough to depend on bus rather than tube for my local travels, why I didn't bother to account for longer journey-times when leaving my house this morning. 45 minutes later I was still on no bus, and it was not looking bright! Why oh why.

Early Stages Monday

When I handed in my Masters thesis last year I fled the country and went on a three week holiday to Sydney. When I was back in London I got a job within a weeks time. Getting a job in April 2008 seemed like an easy task - go to a few interviews, chose a favorite, start working, thank you very much!

This is my first Monday ever as unemployed, and the feeling is strange. It is not at all like having another Sunday for leisure but rather feeling guilty of calling in another one of those suspicious sick-days. Or perhaps like being a student, dossing around the house, knowing that I really should be in the library.

At least I have a new full time hobby. It is called "thinking of ways to find my next job; more fun and better paid than my last". I almost added the word desperately, but decided not to. It just doesn't sound right.