Christ, it’s been ages. Sorry folks. And that’s if anyone even bothers to look again at this ‘ere blog because I know what it’s like, someone hasn’t bothered to update a site for a while, so why should I bother even checking it?
Well, fair play to yous. I mean, clearly you’re wrong. It’s always worth a click on ol’ Rangy’s site isn’t it – just to keep informed on my new favourite rock artist, Keith Urban. As I wrote in my previous post, Keith postulates that life is a valuable and precious commodity (on a par with, say, colour photocopiers or ergonomic shelving units) and yet he describes the kind of recklessly endangering activity that could potential shorten the lives of literally tens of others, as well as his own. Keith will doubtless confound and anger as many as he inspires, a phenomenon hereby referred to as the ‘Urban Paradox’.
As I said you know, that’s fine, don’t worry about it. You’re on here now, all is forgiven. Keith will go on even if I don’t.
Back to reality.
Today, due to a dilapidated team, I spent the morning not fundraising but sitting through interviews for potential new team members conducted by my “field manager”. Always makes me laugh. She isn't a shepherd.
Essentially all I was doing by sitting next to her was making the potential candidates feel quite smart. As I was only expecting to be facing the general public today, I was sporting the usual wild-hair, unshaven, tattered jeans and old t-shirt look. Fine. But put me in an airport lounge of a room, complete with security guard manning the exit (I was in the Job Centre Plus of all places) and I start to take on a new status. To the potential employees I must have been the kind of mathematical anomaly that your parents warned you about.
“Even he can get a job, son. Come on.”
I kind of wished I’d introduced myself as the general director of the company just to drive home the point, but no, I was just a fellow fundraiser. Hiya!
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