Now the nail-biting about being invited to an interview start, I suppose. It’s november. Everyone says that by the 15th I should know if I’m one of the 80-90 per cent that are invited to come to Cambridge and sweat.
It would probably be a slight let-down if I wasn’t even invited, wouldn’t it? That would be a sign that I’m barking up the wrong tree, and should consider applying for a job down at the KFC on High Street instead.
Of course my treacherous mind says that this is a likely scenario. I suppose I should nick a menu and start to prepare to smile and ask people if they want chips with that. I’m British! We don’t smile. It’s unnatural.
All this, of course, makes Mark scoff and say I need to get my head fixed. On that we can both agree, sometimes. He thinks that my smile is perfectly acceptable for a position at KFC. I don’t believe him. He’s just saying that to be nice because he wants to cuddle.
Today I was invited to join a band. My last attempt to join a band was… a failure. I think we lasted about three rehearsals before we broke up over artistic differences. We couldn’t play together, and it was like each was playing a solo act.
This band is from Mark’s school. Mark has talked up my ability to sing, and since they need a singer, one of them followed Mark home from town today and demanded that I drop everything and give a little demonstration of my ability.
Since it meant that a bit of limelight would fall on me, I readily agreed, and sang a few songs. That’s when I was invited to join the band – although I haven’t said yes or no yet. I actually want to see the band perform before I give any sort of answer. Fool me once, shame on you, etc…
But they’re rehearsing down in the music rooms at Mark’s school. Christ, I’m going to have to settle for state school resources, aren’t I? How on earth will I cope? I suppose we’ll have a plastic imitation triangle available in a basement room next to the furnace for our practise.
But it would be so fun to get into a band. I feel like I’m neglecting my music at the moment. I don’t want to do that. I want to keep my singing standard to at least being close to good. However, I’ve been terribly lazy about singing during the last half-year. I’m only doing scales right now.
I also think I need something outside the house. Mark has his LGBT club and the politics, and I think I should have something like that too. Like this band. I suppose I need to waste some energy.
Maybe there is a mathematician side to me after all because I realise that I enjoy the little logical problems that coding brings. I spent a couple of hours on my game again today, and I finished the character statistics section, and gave it a little polish.
I’m well pleased with myself, and I find that I actually do like doing it. Maybe there is something to this maths thing after all, except for the little barbs from the partner about infringing on his roles in this household.
I wasn’t aware we had any roles. I mean, we’re not exactly the Mr and Mrs Traditional-Marriage are we? None of us has the role of the little woman, or the husband, bound forever into a neat little box of gender stereotypes.