Gissa job

In the interests of the monitoring of equal opportunities, my application form today had the nerve to ask me about my sexuality. I preferred not to answer. How very dare it.

Application forms are truly a trial of patience and resolution. Interminably repeating the same information in black ink in little boxes and trying to fit in convincing explanations of how I'm very suitable for jobs despite my rather unimpressive list of previous experience and my several years of mostly SAH mothering. I'm also wildly over-educated in a fabulously useless field, but I feel good about that.

I particularly like the forms from government offices that want you to rate responses to potential dilemmas between 1 and 4. I feel I ought to be given a small prize, such as a Green & Blacks orange & spices or a Harley Davidson, each time I complete one of these forms.