The man I went to see last week was there to offer me a job, not a dog. My current employ is not directly matched to my skills and I do want to stay in Sheffield, not move to Bristol or Warrington.
Although I was offered the job, I sat down with my employer yesterday and talked through the options of working on projects outside our department and outside their normal skills set. It was all done and dusted after the close of a meeting...
Almost. I rang through to Bristol and yes, they would love to have me on their Project. They are talking about me today. So after all the pent up stress and emotion of the morning I went out for a very short run.
I've never run for less than 20 minutes. I ran up my usual hill, took a footpath up some old sandstone steps, worn into slouchy curves by a century or more of use. The steps came out at a church. I ran around the graveyard and slithered down a craggy heap which I soon realised was filled with the earthy spoils of the gravediggers work.
As soon as I reached the leet, I ran up the hill to another set of steps back to the churchyard then down a side-street, up steps again before dropping back down to the village. It must've been 10 or less but it was really invigorating. All up until the bit where I got cornered by the crazy lady in the shop.
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