Tomorrow sees the end of my third week of training. Only one more week to go.
Considering how slowly it seems to go at the time, the end is really creeping up fast. Not sure am ready for first field assignment. (Or anything that doesn’t involve changing a toner cartridge or an indeterminate amount of milk and sugar.) It seems that I don’t really have a say in the matter. (Translation: Don’t have the backbone to argue back)
In roughly 8 days I’ll find out what my assignment will be and since we’ve been told to keep that weekend free am assuming it wont be as simple as “Go pick this up from the shops.” (What? That’s a kind of a field assignment… it’s outside. That’s what “field” means)
To make things so much better (Wait I didn’t mean that I mean worse, things are always worse.) I arrived home today to find my lovely sister on my doorstep drunk and crying.
Three guesses.
She broke up with Mr Perfect man and now has nowhere to stay.
I guess she could stay with our parents but that seems like cruel and unusual punishment on top of the trauma she’s going through. (Also she shouted at me when I suggested it.)
So she’s staying here while I comfort her over the weekend. The weekend that was supposed to be my romantic weekend with Oliver. (I am never having sex again.) He was so wonderful about it; immediately trying to think of things the three of us could all do together to get her mind off it. To be honest though the only activities she seems interested in are crying, drinking and vomiting in my bathroom. (Yes, this truly is a perfect alternative to being wined and dined.)
I have to go, when I leave her alone too long she tries to turn up the music and sing along at the top of her sobbing voice.
Sorry neighbours.
