Sacked.

np: Marilyn Manson - Seizure of Power

Fuck. Shit. Bollocks.

That's putting it mildly. You get what you wish for, and that's what I get for wishing it.

On top of that, no redundancy insurance on either the lappy or my loan, and the bank isn't letting me change my mind now. The utter shits.

So, good news:

1. I no longer have to restrict my job- or flat-hunting to places which leave me within an hour of the middle of nowhere. This is great.

2. I've got a paycheque coming in real soon now.

3. Magaluf next week. I'm going back into town to buy bleach. Pray that the ends of my hair don't rot off: if they don't it should look okay, and in a fortnight I will be the Sexy Euro Boy again.

4. I thought these jeans had shrunk. Wearing them in the rain has sorted them. w00t.

Anyway, yeah. I really hope my hair works. I could seriously do with some immediate fillyification.

w.bloggar's annoying me, as all proprietary software does. Where are the alternatives?

- Chris