I can actually do stuff

It's been a few days and I have been having a reasonable time, proving to myself that a. my brain does still function moreorless and b. I can perform practical tasks unaided. This was in some doubt as I have not had much requirement to test either out of late.

First, I passed some aptitude tests and am heading for the interview stage for a job. This is jolly worrying since I may actually end up being properly employed! Quel horreur.

Still, it does flexible hours and we need the money.

The aptitude tests were most alarming: the numeracy required me to do percentages, a long forgotten skill, and I never did understand how to use the percentage button on the calculator, so those questions caused me to crease my forehead slightly and the old noggin to throb. Apart from those, I was pretty happy with how it went. Of course, while we all sat waiting for our results, I had deep fearful pangs that I'd blown it, but no.

On the way back, I got a flat. On previous occasions kindly passing motorists have stopped and helped, which the time when I had a 90 kg trampoline in the boot atop where the spare lives, was especially delightful and life-saving. I've never actually done it all alone - and it's easy-peasy. Next time I wouldn't choose to do it anywhere quite so muddy, but it's rather heartening to me to dispel this niggle at the back of my mind about tyres. Cars are largely a smelly ugly mystery to me: I have no desire to change that and become a female Jeremy Clarkson lawks(!) But I've also known for a decade or so that I wasn't really paying attention when my mum taught me how to do this particular, somewhat necessary aspect of car maintenance.

It's times like these I wish I'd listened to what my mother said.
What did she say?
I don't know, I wasn't listening. [/paraphrasing Douglas Adams in one of the Hitchhikers? Or episode of the Simpsons?]

Anyway, I got myself back on the road and it's good to know I can do it.


Finished: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell