I spent the day yesterday soaking up the sun in my oldest friend's beautifully laid out garden, to which I wasn't the only visitor: there were frogs and dragonflies and turtledoves, too. It would have been the perfect afternoon but for the fact that being out of work has made me feel uncomfortable and unworthy, and ever so slightly envious of my old school chum who's been in civil service since the day she left uni and married a rich man to boot, and so can't empathise with my situation at all. I know it's stupid and counter-productive to feel this way, but I can't help it.
I saw a job advertised for guide to a local museum to which specific knowledge of art and antiquities was required, and got really excited; but it's irregular work and pays peanuts, so however much it pains me, I'm going to have to pass up on it and keep looking for something far less appealing in the way of content, but offering much better scope of enabling me to meet my mortgage payments. ::sigh:: If only jobs like this had been available when I was reading art history! I'm sure I would have stood a much better chance of making it in my chosen profession if that had been the case.