Decayed.

Ten years ago, not quite today but just about this week, I got a call on my disgusting, clunky analogue mobile phone. Even back then that piece of junk was out of date. But what to do? I was broke and out of work.

I'd supplemented my dole playing pub gigs with The Worst Band In The World™ but in the end the grief (and the constant threat of electrocution on stage) wasn't worth the money. I'd attended a few job interviews, done aptitude tests, checked in with the temp agencies. When the social welfare people called me to an interview and asked if I thought I'd be have a job within six months time I ticked 'yes'. Trying to be positive I guess.

I'd been for a job interview not long before. In all I'd been interviewed three times for this job. Plus a pretty grueling aptitude test. Two days after the interview the familiar envelope came, an equally familiar "thanks but no thanks" note nestled within. I felt philosophical. I lived above a pub. Though I wasn't drinking much at the time, I decided to pop down below for a pint.

Down there, I met a friend of mine, who worked in the same place that had just rejected my application. AGAIN. He asked me had there been any developments on the job front; I had to tell him the sorry news. My friend raised an eyebrow and said, "Do you know they're advertising the same jobs again in today's paper?" It sounded crazy but I looked and he was right.

It was four o'clock. The place (and their personnel office) was about twenty minutes walk from where we were, and it closed at five. My friend offered to give me a lift in but instead I just hopped on my bike, called in to the personnel office, and filled out yet another application form. By now I could have done it in my sleep.

The following day my phone rang. They offered me a job. And now here I am, ten years later. Guess I must be doing something right. :-)