Plus ça change, plus ça reste pareil.

So today was my first day as an AO. Sounds like Eh-Oh, so therefore I'm a teletubby. I've basically been doing exactly the same stuff as before, in the same seat. It will gradually change, so I'm told.

I had two cards on my desk though - one from the group, and one from Andrea, which was nice. It reminded me that today was different, even if it wasn't really.

Went for hot cross buns for elevenses in the downstairs kitchen with Steve, which has become a bit of a habit recently, but it's not a habit I'm desperate to break. I enjoy the smug feeling as people come in for a cuppa and get jealous at the lightly toasted and buttered smells, and I smile at them through the crumbs.

Noticed the Digger Effect again today. I mentioned it to Nicola a while back - when travelling with a toddler, you get used to pointing out anything that might interest or amuse them, like tractors, aeroplanes or cranes. The most common item tends to be a digger - any construction vehicle painted yellow generally fits the description as far as Euan's concerned. I felt the urge to point out diggers when on the bus with Nicola, and she obligingly said, "Wow, yes, diggers. Thank you for bringing them to my attention."
Then this morning on the way to work, Steve said, "Yellow digger!" at a big scoopy-fronted thing coming towards us. Maybe he's always done that. Or maybe he's suffering from the Digger Effect too. Who can say?

Got ten hours' sleep last night. Must have needed it. Not falling asleep in work so much today, and the mid afternoon lull didn't make me rush to the can machine (7up) and chocolate machine (Tasters and/or Twirl) for a sugar hit. Did have a weird dream last night however. It was one of those chasing dreams - me and several friends were running away from the army. I forget why. But they weren't the tanks-and-helicopters army, they were an old-fashioned army, the kind the Grand Old Duke of York would have, who marched in formation and wore smart uniforms.

Very vivid. Very odd. Ended up (after GTA-style car theft and losing the dawdlers who insisted on talking to a group of cyclists) with three of us realising we'd come the wrong way and run out of road, leaving us facing a forest. At this point, dream-me regretted the high heels. So just before waking up, I was crashing desperately through the undergrowth and trying to avoid the searing blasts from flamethrowers.

The day was always going to be quite tame by comparison.

So, some weeks are just more eventful than others.

I had a mere 24 hours' wait on the reserve list; it's probably some kind of record.

And I passed my First Aid training with flying colours. Hooray, as long as you're made of plastic I'll have no trouble resuscitating you! And I'm great at bandages. I got a little badge. I'm really proud, but I think everyone else sees last week as a skive with a guaranteed qualification.

Got a haircut on Friday, for the first time in ages. Quite scary, I had got used to looking like I'd walked through a bale of hay. At least that's out of the way for this decade. Honestly, you pay the best part of a day's wages for a few well-placed snips, then you feel all meek and grateful when they offer you a drink and some biscuits. I felt guilty for eating both biscuits. Then I felt guilty for turning down the offer of wine and going for the fruit juice.

Had our Mother's Day on Saturday, with Grandma, Mum & Dan. I'd suggested going to NEWI, as they had a sciency-type exhibition on, and it was close to home for the inevitable point where everyone's ready to kill everyone else. It was really good. Euan loved it. He had his fingerprint made into a badge, held a starfish, stroked an albino python, saw a space rocket, climbed up to the cockpit of a plane, and sat in the driver's seat of a fire engine. I had to stop him when he reached for the keys. Then we had a nice meal in the Squire Yorke, and Mum & Dan came round for cuppas. Probably the best day out we've collectively managed in a while.

Then Sunday was spent doing absolutely nothing, which is exactly what Sundays are for, and anyone using them to do anything useful should be prosecuted.

Steve went out to his car in the evening, and found that it had been broken into. Not good. So of course Euan was thrilled when two real policemen came into his house! He helpfully showed them the painting he was doing, and the blu-tack sculpture he was squishing. They were very interested. I can't imagine that "humouring an entranced toddler" is in the job description, but they did very well anyway. Steve now has to get his door fixed, and sort out getting a new stereo, as soon as the scenes-of-crime people have had a look. At least whoever broke in didn't bother looking in the boot, so all his golf clubs were still there. Bit of a dampener on the weekend though, as the car was only parked in the road - you can see it from the house.

It could have been worse, as Steve pointed out. He might not have gone outside until Monday morning, and what a lovely surprise that would have been.

First Aid training is hard work. I can't believe how many complicated scenarios I have to learn how to deal with. Although perhaps naivety played a part when I expected it to be just a few bandages and CPR on a dummy - the course lasts four days, after all.

Popped back into work again, not planning to stay long because all the concentration during the day is actually quite tiring.

Got the promotion.

There were two jobs going, and one of the people who was successful is part-time. The managers discussed it and decided that their staffing level indicators said they still needed more, so I got suddenly-created job number three. Everyone said well done. Starts next week. I'm not sure how I feel about it yet. I think it's good news.

I will never get the hang of First Aid. The complicated flowcharts for what-ifs and maybes are what get me. I'm fine on bandages, and I can do all the practical stuff. Although Julie our trainer does keep saying, "You're not that light-handed for a slight person, are you..?" which is a polite way of saying "Please stop being so rough with the casualty." Will they really care about a bruise on their knee if I saved their life? Well yes, apparently, because a lot of the course seems to be taken up with discussing what First Aiders aren't allowed to do any more, for fear of litigation. Good grief.

Fantastic bunch of people though. We've relaxed and got to know each other now, so a simple, "Charlotte, you've got a bad bleed from your arm; Gemma you're the first aider" will result in an Oscar-worthy performance from the participants, with much drama and over-acting. When our trainer said, "That's good Sara, the ambulance has arrived so you can stop now" this caused one of the lads to run in yelling "Nee-nah-nee-nah!" and make with the defibrillator. "Clear!" ...ker-chunk.

Went into work afterwards to check emails and make up some flexi.

Had an email about the promotions. I was worried about:
A. Getting the job and hating it.
B. Not getting the job and feeling rejected.

I hadn't considered secret option C, which was Getting Onto the Reserve List.

That's what I got. It means, "You're good enough to work at that grade, but we want different people for these jobs, and if more come up in six months, you don't have to fill in more forms."

Perfect. Happy now.

Babble, babble, babble...

I hate my job. Actually, the job is still OK, but my colleagues hate me, and chose to demonstrate their feelings by way of a beautifully-choreographed office lynching. So to be more precise, I enjoy my job but feel very unhappy sitting at my desk.

I really really hope I don't get the promotion now - I should have listened to those nagging doubts, that's what they're for. Luckily, I'm on a First Aid course for the rest of the week, so I'm trying not to think or worry about it.

(The course is OK so far, one day in, but ask me again what I think of it after Friday, and the assessment I have to pass...)

So last week was mainly taken up with hassle in work.

Friday was a short but hectic day's work followed by a train to London to meet up with a few people for a trip to Thorpe. The six hours it took me to get there didn't drag though, as I just used the time to catch up on some reading.

Found the hotel (eventually), met everyone and headed to a pub. I got quite drunk with Trev on tequila. The others just stole the lemons. The few photos I took show a quite civilised gathering around a couple of tables, then some blurry pictures of me, Trev and John hanging off the door of what appears to be a large lorry cab. An enjoyable evening, and my friends assured me on Saturday morning that I didn't shout at anyone, or get annoying.

The park itself is tiny. And seems to be mostly surrounded by water. My hangover was alleviated by a hefty quantity of KFC, but the weather was grey and freezing cold. Not fun standing in queues for hours with the unrelenting wind wearing you down, but of course we braved it. Got onto Stealth - very fast, great feeling, worth going on the front... although my eyes were streaming so much by the end that I couldn't see.

The rest of the day was spent waiting to get onto rides which broke down one after another. Only went on a couple, then an entire area was closed because one ride had a major problem. The few brave people struggling against the cold were then concentrated into a smaller area, and still the park were just running one train on most rides.

The time had come to complain, politely but firmly. Results: some tickets to cut down our time spent in queues, and a promise that I would get a proper reply within a week or two.

It was fun. Good to meet new people (Graeme, Trev & Tom C), good to see the others again. Worth the eleven hours of trains in two days. Not quite worth the money, but I have Thorpe's customer service address, and will be badgering them about that.

Steve picked me up from the station, late Saturday night. Definitely made the long journey more tolerable.

Sunday seemed to disappear, then Euan was home and it was time for bed before work beckoned again. I'm sure someone keeps shortening my weekends.

Oooh, Monday the thirteenth, spooky! Why ruin the happiness and anticipation of a Friday with superstition? I think we should petition to have the bad luck moved to Monday 13ths. Or just removed altogether.

I know, I know, I'm getting increasingly lazy and writing less for this. I keep intending to, honest guv, but I seem to be using my own house as a drop-in base recently.

Since the last update, I filled in that job application. I didn't finish on Monday. Or Tuesday. Or Wednesday... spot the theme? Finished it on deadline day, so my manager didn't have chance to look through it properly. They're complicated things, with a space for Gill to put 200 words about how fab I am, and a space for me to fill with examples of me demonstrating my "competences"... drifting off on a brief tangent, it still annoys me that my old manager who wouldn't let me go for a promotion called them "competencies". That's not even a word. Pluralising an attribute is stretching it anyway, but adding an "i" because you don't understand the derivation... grrr. She couldn't master the basic principles of the language, and there she was saying, "But I haven't seen you demonstrate your competencies because you don't ask for my help with things." So basically I would have done better to ask dimwit questions so she could feel proud of "developing staff" by watching the little lightbulb appear above my head. She failed to see that the lightbulb is already on, and it's energy-efficient to boot.

But I digress. Are you getting the impression that I harbour a certain bitterness about being kept down in a crappy job for five years, and pride has something to do with my reluctance to advance now? The Revenue didn't want me to progress when I was eager and helpful and enthusiastic, so they're not having me now I'm pissed off and lazy. Can someone help me with cutting my nose off please? I don't think my face has received enough spite.

So the application's gone in. Some people get rejected countless times, and they still try because basically it's down to luck, good wording, and whether your manager likes you. So I might be worrying over nothing, and with their usual discernment and skill, the powers that be will give the jobs to a five year-old and a monkey. And I'll end up training the monkey. Still, as there's a bright side to everything, at least it should mean lots of tea parties.

Other newsies...

Euan went to Cardiff to stay with Karl and Jane for a week, leaving me free to... stay in bed all weekend. Not even my bed either. I got up twice: once each day, for a brief trip home to feed the animals. Nothing wrong with a bit of self-indulgence from time to time, especially since my definition of a lie-in is usually "Euan let me sleep until 8am".

Just my luck though: I have a week sprog-free, and Steve spends half of it in Leeds on a training course. As he left the office to get his train he came up to see me, and I got a quick hug on the stairs, which seemed somehow wrong and risqué. In work! With work people around! That can't be right.

I was intending to be really good and use the two nights constructively, partly so I didn't notice the sudden solitude. Tuesday was taken up with dancing in Chester with Mum - thankfully plenty of nice people, only got mildly ogled. It was in the pub afterwards where the particularly slimy one was lurking. Worst part is, as I was sitting there feeling mildly repulsed, I also felt quite sorry for him. I doubt he's ever had much luck with women, and it probably confuses him: after all, from his point of view, he has his own business, he's a freemason, he's a gentleman, he makes the effort to indicate he would like to spend money on a lady... How do you politely tell someone he's an anachronism, and a self-important one, and his obvious fondness for material things really isn't that attractive? I was glad to leave him with his embarrassed friend. I can't "fix" everyone, much as I would like to.

Friday was a very belated celebration of Andrea's birthday - out at lunchtime for a meal, then staying out drinking all day. It was good, because it gave us 11 hours of catching up. I drank a number of odd things, but paced myself very well, and wavered successfully on "tipsiness" most of the afternoon. It's amazing how shabby all the drinking establishments look in daylight. It was also the first time I'd ever noticed that Barracuda is in fact two buildings, joined by bridges, with a glass roof. The bar is effectively a courtyard. I knew it was like a rabbit warren of interconnecting rooms upstairs, I'd just never thought of glancing upwards on the bridges. And probably still wouldn't have clicked in the dark. There were three of us still out at 11pm, and we had all had enough, so we shared a taxi home.

Euan was back Saturday lunchtime, so Steve gave me a lift to pick him up, and the three of us spent the afternoon in his caravan. Euan thoroughly enjoyed it anyway, especially playing on the X-box. He was better at it than me. Had lots of lovely food, and hid from the snow when it started in the evening - a day of hibernation was exactly what I wanted as I was getting all snuffly and achy. Euan fell asleep on the sofa, so we carried him inside through the snow to sleep on a makeshift bed in Steve's room. Euan coped pretty well with the unfamiliar surroundings. Well, actually he was a naggy git, but to be fair he'd had an unusual week. Steve however coped very well with the toddler invasion. Quite a shock to the system. Must be weird. It's one thing to get used to "small child running around at girlfriend's house", it's quite another thing to wake up at 7 in the morning and find "small child in own bed, girlfriend sitting on floor getting increasingly irritable trying to convince small child to go back to sleep for a while". Not a normal Sunday morning, all things considered.

Euan dragged me outside and we made a little snowman and kicked up some snow, but the freezing wind and rain stopped us from staying out for too long. We went back inside, defrosted for a while, then trekked home, with me carrying Euan most of the way because he found it difficult wading through the drifts.

Fun weekend. Was over too quickly, but aren't they all?