See You Next Wednesday
I have written one sentence about how long I have been doing the same job I am applying for. Strictly speaking it doesn't address the selection criteria.
Let's talk about something else.
It's not what you know, it's who you know.
Simon has directed me to the advertisement in the Public Service Gazette for the position I am applying for. The job in the gazette has a due date of next week and no requirement for written referee reports. I think I will apply for that position instead. Thank you, Simon.
I missed another job application. I thought I had a week, but they were due yesterday. I could try to hand my application in late, but I don't have the two written referee reports either. Also, I can't find my previous applications so this one will be written from scratch (which will take a week). I shall write it so I can use it next time, and because I cleared my schedule yesterday so I could work on it today. At least I don't have a deadline.
I had a dream.
Imagine you are tidying up and you make a stack of books and magazines and papers on a table. The stack is uneven, balanced on an uncertain centre of gravity. You place another book on the top and in the instant you move your hand away to see if the pile will remain stable, you know will not. You know the tower will tilt and the layers of paper will fall and slide across the table on glossy covers. You don't know if it will collapse in a heap or slide across the full length of the table and spill onto the floor, but you know it will fall before you can stop it.
My dream was similar to that feeling of prescience. In my dream I knew the way my tongue rested in my mouth meant it would be bitten when I closed my teeth. I was certain and I was astounded by the power of my certainty. It was a revelation of truth, amazing and awesome. At no time did it cross my mind to move my tongue out of danger or consider not closing my teeth. Instead I just bit my tongue. I woke up, of course. I had bitten my tongue in two places and even drew a little blood. That sort of thing tends to wake me.Dreaming about biting your tongue symbolizes being quiet or containing yourself.
This may not sound like the snappiest line from 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), but it evidently caught the imagination of John Landis, who has worked references to a mythical film of this name into most of his own movies - memorably as the grotty British skinflick watched by an assortment of lycanthropes and zombies in the climax of An American Werewolf in Paris [sic] (1981).
Ghastly Beyond Belief, Neil Gaiman and Kim Newman