A little thing called a job

I don't really think anything less than an excess of exclamation marks can come remotely close to conveying the dizzying enormity that is the offer of full-time employment in a role that comes VERY close to ticking all the boxes of My Dream Job. We're talking contemporary art, museum education, writing, fuck off massive brilliant challenges, five of the best art institutions in London-nay-the-World and PAID. Yes, paid.

flowers of congratulations from the ever lovely LBB

The personality test supposedly showed me to have brilliant abstract thinking skills (probably more abstract than brilliant but I'll take what I can get), excellent diplomacy and communication skills and a talent for team playing (again probably more abstract than bat-and-ball but again, I'll take what I can get...)

I'm daunted, exhilarated and the kind of floaty, distracted shocked that only a massive hangover can steady. Me, LBB and the Taittinger are working on it as I type. 

I start on Monday and will be swimming all kinds of strokes as I acquaint myself with The Deep End but mostly I am just bursting with exclamation marks. Seriously. 

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!