I'm geeking it up for the Aldi interview that I'm attending tonight.
:)
The lady I spoke to on the phone wants me at the store at 6.15pm where I can familiarise myself with the store, and take note of how Aldi is different from other superstores.
I already have a couple of big ones to flash out:-
1) Aldi uses all own brands from local and foreign sources that wouldn't stand a chance in todays superstores against other well-known brands e.g. Heinz, Bachelors, Birds Eye and B & J's etc. etc. etc. High on quality, low on price.
And 2) Layout is simple and flashy POS is to an absolute minimal in store as Aldi spends more money on the high-quality products rather than 'showing off' with huge posters all over the place.
... Aside from the twice-weekly Super 6 Deals.
:)
What a nerd.
YES, I FINALLY HAVE IT!
:)
I'm gonna drop 4 dress sizes by Christmas.
Up until about thirteen months ago, I had never broken a bone in my body. Lucky me then proceeded to slam my poor little thumb on my right hand in my dad's car door and break it.
What joy.
I didn't even know that it was broken. Yes, there was a lot of blood and tears. But my parents didn't suggest taking me to the doctors... CALL THEMSELVES PARENTS?!?
Hmmmph!
So, yes, the poor little thumb it still a bit stiff, but it's near completely healed.
Now, just over two weeks ago, after going to the said SHITTY interview that was for one of those recruitment scamming agencies in Manchester, my foot started hurting and clicking on my way back to Piccadilly station. Next day, I couldn't walk. But a couple of day's rest and my foot was fine.
However, it's been flaring up and... down, I suppose, since then and it's starting to really nark me off. I want to go jobhunting in Manchester and Leeds without having to limp like a drunk everytime I set foot out of the car/off the train etc. etc. etc.
Went to the doc's today and she advised me to get some Ibroprofen Heat Rub, which I have, so hopefully it's only a sprain and it'll heal in a couple of days. Otherwise, after looking at some photos of broken feet on the internet, I'm ready to GO INSANE if this fella's broken.
Because those photos look, quite frankly, minging.
Please, God. Don't let it be broken.
:(
P.S. The doc wants me to go back in a week for a Patient Medical and wants me to take a urine sample along too.
Last time I peed into a jug, I was about three years old.
:/
It's all in the Weston genes.
My grandma was beautiful and has handed down the best part of a long series of genetic formations to her daughters and subsequent female grand-daughters... Except that I'm the only grand-daughter following suit.
My daddy was her son and is a bit of a porker himself, bless his sweet tooth. I love him to pieces.
:)
And I am, most probably the youngest family member now to carry on the Weston Woman's Body.
BIG BUM, BIG THIGHS, BIG BOOBS... and a rather noticably BIGGER HEAD than average...
... Of which has caused numerous problems in the past.
1) MY HEAD // I was stood for a total 20 minutes behind-the-scenes at Graduation trying to find the right sized hat for my head. I think I tried on at least 20 different ones.
2) MY BUM // Despite getting squeezed an awful lot and being a perfect cushion for most things considered, there have been noticable (I'm not going to describe them, it's too painful) incidents regarding the said derriere that should not be uttered ever again in the future!
3) MY BOOBS // Do I need to stress the back pain I get on a regular basis, the sheer inappropriate 'getting-in-the-way'ness of these hooters and my morbid fear of running around in public in case I flash innocent bystanders or knock myself out with these puppies...
I'm sure you see my point.
If you're a dude, I'm sure you LOVE them. If you're a girl for that matter, I'm sure you love them too...
But now they're just getting in the way.
The other day I dragged two of my very unlucky friends around Manchester trying to find a green military coat for the winter but ended up having a very infantile spazz because none of them fitted me ON ACCOUNT OF MY HUMONGOUS TITS.
I always used to think that I needed them because they balanced out my also HUMONGOUS ARSE, but I really don't want them anymore. As soon as I get enough money and lose a little weight (I don't want to get rid of these nuisances only to make my arse look ridiculously out of proportion), I'm getting myself one of those bad boys.
Or more cringingly to the point, getting rid of those bad boys.
Mmm, it'll be emotional.
