Still alive, just.
I hate my job and have an interview for my dream job next Monday.
Rob continues to be the sunshine in my horrible Watford-based existence. We have met the respective families and he has briefly met Hazel. All is excellent and he is wonderful, even if he is having to move back to Sussex due to ill-health (it's pretty much certain now that it's ME/CFS. We cope).
Yesterday I dyed my hair a lovely chocolately brown and managed to get hair dye in three separate places on the wall AND the skirting board. All of these surfaces are cream. I am praying my meticulous but barely-present landlord will not notice - the latter quality is in my favour but the former is not.
Today I wore boots to work and now have a bloodied heel.
In just over a week I am going to Boston with Rob for a week. He got a flight for Christmas from his incredibly rich brother and I got a Christmas bonus from my incredibly crappy work, so somehow we can afford it. Just. Oh, and I got a promotion and a pay rise in my three-month review - I'm now an Occupational Therapist Technical Instructor, whatever that is, and I now earn slightly more than pittance (but still not a lot).
This is an incredibly unsatisfying update.
And, well, that's it.
Sincerely hoping things are well with all of you. I'm still reading, but just not so keen to write at the moment.