Lost in Translation

I FAILED the translation accreditation exam I sat in November. Ergo, I am a loser.

I have valiantly taken on board the internet posts about the 20% pass rate and the near impossibility of passing the first time round despite people having worked overseas in translation work blah blah blah. But the fact remains. I failed.

On a brighter note, I have discovered that Rittey is a popular first name in the Maldives.

Yes. A constructive afternoon in the purest sense of the term. 

I am sitting in my living room with the fan on and the curtains drawn. Because it is forty three crazy degrees outside. Which, when I WAS outside, made me think of when you open the oven door and there is a whoosh (brilliant onomatopoeic command of the English language) of hot air which makes you think your eyebrows or perhaps more startlingly, one eyebrow has been singed and there is an oppressive feeling of breathlessness. I have exchanged Polar Vortex for Solar Vortex.

My dinner guests luckily don't arrive until 7pm. Because, in my depressive loser state, I have drunk 2 beers and procrastinated.

I'm not depressed really. I've just been to New York living life like it's golden. So I can't be depressed. Just bruised ego.

I have had two beers though. Because it's the holidays and they were really cold and other very legitimate reasons for sitting around alone drinking beer.

And I have poached chicken and made Vietnamese dressing. Oh, and cooked prawns. So it's not all sitting round looking my name up on Google.

Good grief.

I AM a loser.

Lucky I have a day job.