It's now four weeks since my full went out to the agency. It's the weirdest sensation. I wait for the Postman, but dread his arrival at the same time. And then I think, if it's good news they'd be more likely to phone. And that scares me even more.
I don't know why it should. Somehow the immediacy of the phone is so much more intimate and personal. Not to mention immediate. What if I'm making the dinner or on the loo or trying to stop Theo tormenting my ailing cat? I'll probably go blank and sound like a first-class idiot and God only knows what she'll think. And I'll have blown my one chance to impress.
So, organise. Plan it all in advance. What is she likely to ask? Think of some clever and witty replies. (This'll never work - not unless I write them on the back of my hand - I can't remember what day it is usually!)
By the time I've thought all this I'm having a full blown panic attack. And now every time the phone rings I'm having palpitations.
So, you know what? I'm going to wing it. For better or worse, it's the only way.
Ah, that's better. I can now go back to worrying about the postman...