In spite of having a truly awful night's sleep last night, I managed to squeeze in another completely bonkers dream, in which I was apparently collecting mail-order exotic pets. One of the newest arrivals was a baby alligator, and my first instinct was to house it in the bathroom. It seemed happy enough, pressing its snout against the door, but I was suspicious of the fact that it seemed to be staring at me. Standing on the lavatory was enough to fool it into thinking I wasn't looking (the towels hanging on the door were somehow, magically, in its line of sight, though surely it could still see my legs?), and it made its first bid for escape, squeezing under the corner of the door. I gave chase, scooped it up and, in search of a more permanent home, tracked down my local mob-owned pet shop with the frisky little critter "in my pants". Because, obviously, when one speaks to stereotypical Sopranos-style contemporary mob folks, one speaks in American. The baby reptile was actually in my pocket, not my underwear.
I can't quite remember what happened in the pet shop, except that it was dark and somewhat spooky. It was a Horror Movie Pet Shop, rather than a real pet shop, and none of the lights - other than the eerie green glow from a couple of terraria - were working. The next thing I knew, I was back home, chasing the baby 'gator down the stairs in its second bid for freedom. My folks had suggested flushing it down the toilet - both amused by the 'urban legend' angle (well, I mean, there are terrapins in the canal near where they live) - or generally just destroying it, so it was no surprise that my father stamped on it the moment it ventured too close to the lounge... but, rather than going splat like a real baby alligator might, this dream creature went splat like Play-Doh, splitting in half and smearing around.
Firmly believing that the wilful murder of a Play-Doh creature was just as criminal as that of a normal animal, I was left wondering what to do... so, just like last time, I copped out and woke up.
In the end, it turned out to be quite fortunate that I was so restless... I'd set my alarm for 7.30am, but that was actually dangerously close to the time I'd need to leave home to get to work... and I really needed to shower. Waking up an hour before my alarm was due to go off, I had time to consider my timing, and realise that I should get out of bed right-fucking-now, or risk arriving very, very late...
So I had a day of work today, giving me a bit of extra cash (hopefully) by the end of the week. It was much the same stuff as my last single-day placement - lots of images to be rebalanced and some to be cut out in Photoshop. Their so-called 'Designers' are clearly a completely fucking lazy bunch... There would be more than enough of a Production role there even without the image editing they can't be bothered to do for themselves, so it's no surprise that they're feeling short-handed enough to employ a temp... But it's very weird that they're only being allowed to seek out a junior (with pay to match) rather than experienced people.
Of course, it sounds as though lots of experienced people have been interviewing there anyway... and having about as much luck as I have lately. My boss there told me that several candidates had mentioned having to lower their expectations on remuneration, because so little work for 'senior' types is available.
By the end of the day, a twinge in my eyebrow had become a full-blown headache and I felt quite nauseous on the way home. Hungry as I was, dinner seemed rather unlikely. I took painkillers as soon as I got indoors and eventually tried to take a nap... While my head started to clear, I didn't get any sleep, just ended up getting up and finishing off my cereal in an attempt to stave off the hunger... didn't work very well but, hey, it's time for me to go to bed now...
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