I've been struggling along with a bad cold this week, my first in over a year. Hardly a statistic to boast about, I suppose, as before the winter of 2006, I'd gone 3 years without contracting one. Oh well.
Suffice to say, I've been moping about, spluttering and sneezing and generally feeling very sorry for myself. As proof of the severity of my illness - seriously, despite what you're thinking, it's more than man-flu - I've only made it in for two lectures this week! Luckily, this was one of my scheduled 'quiet' weeks at uni.
Sod's law being what it is, I was scheduled for an interview on Wednesday when I was more or less at my roughest. Given that the odds of my passing the lurgy on to my interviewer were pretty high, coupled with the fact that by the time I'd got there, I was reduced to a snivelling shell of a person, I didn't rate my chances too highly. Nevertheless, they offered me the job. I had actually already landed a job which I started last weekend but found it not to my liking.
Who said that beggars can't be choosers?