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The Diary That Time Forgot
Yellow head
tallguywrites
How I wish I had access to my computer and the internet again. There's plenty of things I'd like to do, but I can't do anything, because nearly everything I have is in Newark. I can't paint, write, keep in touch with friends, or update my diary (easily). Frustration, frustration, frustration.

There's a good possibllility that a friend will be able to use his work van to pick my stuff up for me. But this is a couple of weeks away yet. My main worry is that my brother will attempt to make things as difficult for me as possible and that I won't be able to get into the house. He's still not sent any of my post on to me, saying both that the mail doesn't look like anything important, and that he hasn't had the time to send it(wah?).

I had a job interview here yesterday at a rather crappy residential care home. The place looked like a decaying museum and looked seriously understaffed. The manager interviewed me in the kitchen (there didn't seem to be an office). I couldn't tell whether the interview went well or not. I suspect I've got a good chance simply because I'm probably one of the few people around desperate enough to need to work there. I should hear today whether I've got the job or not. Bad as it is, I really need it.