I’ve been feeling a bit sad and miserable and disjointed all day. Ordinarily I would say it was just the effect of the torrential rain and grim skies. I’ve also been worrying about whether I’m going to get everything done that I need to do this week. I have a viewing on my house on Saturday, which is good, but it does mean that I have to leave the house tidy, which means I’ve had to spend time tonight cleaning, because I’m out at band tomorrow and on Friday I’m going to Emma’s. And there’s other things I need to do as well, and I was wondering when I was going to have time to it all.

Then, tonight I realised what it is that is wrong. Today is exactly one year since I left BlackwellWiley. I really thought – I really hoped – that sometime in the intervening year I would land myself a new permanent job; a new career.

Of course it’s not like I’ve been without work for the whole year. It’s not like I haven’t had some nice holidays. It’s not even as if I haven’t had the best year ever with Emma, but it has been a year tinged with uncertainty, and I guess an uneasy curiosity as to whether I ever will succeed again at an interview. Just one of those really low evenings I guess.