On pubs with playgrounds and very old friends.

So, last night I dragged my germy self out to the Moreland Hotel, which is about half an hour's walk up Sydney Road from my place, and was where I was meeting my friend Jan, her husband Anthony, and three year old son Ian. I chose the Moreland because I remembered vaguely that it had a play area for munchkins, besides being the Tackiest Pub In Melbourne. And as it turns out, I chose wisely. *grins at the random IJ and the Holy Grail reference* The playground was exactly what an extremely active three-year-old needed, and it meant that Jan and Anthony and I could talk.

And talk we did. I only met Anthony at their wedding, but he's one of my kinds of people. And Jan and I... *smiles largely* For a couple of people that only see each other every five years, we get on so very well. Even if she's never read Lord of the Rings. ;)

We finished up around nine-thirty, as Ian was getting tired and a tad cranky (still pretty good on Rossi's Scale of Annoying Bratty Kids, but then again, I see most of those at court and the poor little buggers have the worst parents in the world, which Jan and Anthony are far from being), and that was a good thing too, as I was starting to cough again. I'm deathly tired today, but that's mainly due to me waking myself up all night to cough. Another good thing about living on my own. ;) I'll be glad when this is over and done with, I can tell you. I did manage to secure the last bottle of lysine at the chemist, so my immune system is getting double doses now. And the echinacea is helping.

Some of the work people and I are going out to lunch in fifteen minutes, which is good. Oh, and my morning tea was a success - I got told by one of the Greeks that I make spinach and cheese better than the wogs. ;) (note: it's okay for a wog to call themselves wogs, but not for a Skippy (that would be me) to do it. Like Afro-Americans using the term "nigger", I guess) So yeah, happies of the domestic sort for me. :)

And more happies! I just got the most enormous box of flowers from [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com] for my birthday! Cupcake, thank you so very, very much - you're a great friend and I've gone all gooey here. *grins* And my work mates are all highly envious - everyone has been cooing and ahhing about them. :)

Okay, have to dash - more burbling later. :)

Back to the drawing board.

I'm determined not to get down about this, but since people have been asking about it, I should pass on the news.

Tonight, in my mailbox, was a letter from the CDPP about the job interview I did back before Easter. The usual: "We regret to inform you, you have been unsuccessful, we hope you apply for any further positions, blah, blah, blah." So yeah, another rejection letter to add to the recycling bin.

Man, this bites. I'm going to be a clerk of courts until I die.

Still, also in the mailbox were two birthday cards, one from my ever-faithful auntie Sandra, and another from Mum, Dad and David. With a cheque for $100. O.O So it looks like I'll be able to go to the second hand CD place after all, and also get new contacts. :) And wihlst my usual co-drinking conspirators had other plans this evening, I had a rather pleasant lunch, and then a few beers after work, before coming home. The birthday itself is tomorrow (being Saturday the 10th, being a final reminder to those who will nevitably ask me when it was *grins*) and as yet I have no plans. I was meaning to arrange dinner, then got sick and didn't have the energy to do it. So, Maelstrom, you're off the hook.

Except you, [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]. I expect at least one beer on my birthday, and I hate drinking alone. *grins*

And now for a quiet night in - I'm still pretty tired with this damn cough, and to be honest, I really wanted that job. Ah well, better luck next time.h