I’ve spent this weekend being chucked in at the deep end. (I think, having managed two already in the space of a single sentence and the title I might just go overboard on the clichés today – partly because I have little or no brain left.)

All weekend, I’ve been working my butt off in a new job with no training. Basically, I was first choice/second choice for the job and had been told by my now boss that I’d not been given the job because although I was the preferred candidate when being judged on a “heart” basis, I was second on a “head” basis because someone else, who was liked less, had directly relevant experience.

My new boss phoned me early this week, asking me if I’d like to come out to play after all because the “head” choice had not returned to work after a day of training! So, whereas the “head” choice had the luxury of a day to learn the job, I got thrown in.

It was so intense that I didn’t even give my beloved Spurs a thought while I was working and they were playing on Saturday afternoon. I got home and had to be told the score of the game. That’s just about un-heard-of for me.

Anyway, I worked really hard, doing something that would probably never have been on the top of my pops for a job. It’s not that I’ve any objection to what I’m doing, it’s more that I could just never have seen myself doing it if you see what I mean.

One of the things about the job is that it’s working with the public so I’ve had to be dressed up for both days, something I’d almost completely abandoned and am now doing a perfect impression of the wild woman of Borneo most days, with un-cut, unkempt hair, trackie pants etc.

I’d tried my hardest to get my mane tamed but couldn’t get an appointment at the hairdresser so I had to make do with my hair, albeit with the inch of grey removed by virtue of a pack of hair dye. I even went and bought some new clothes for the occasion – only Sainsbury’s finest but nevertheless a distinct improvement on the trackie pants.

Now, I have worked three days on the trot and I am also working Monday and Tuesday too. Given that I have not worked in a formal structured way for some time, I’m shattered. I’m coming home each evening and within an hour of sitting down on the sofa I’m snoring like a good ‘un. I dread to think how completely wasted I’m going to be by the end of Tuesday.

This is my notebook (practical thing for jotting down doss and don’ts) and my jewellery – got to keep up those appearances now.