Well, as promised, I'll tell you about my job. In summary: So far, so shit.

Whilst my fear of being trapped in teuchtarland were unfounded (all there are able to hold a conversation, and nary a doric accent in sight), the actual work going down is crap. Really terrible. Since wednesday, our temp-boss Ross has basically just found new and exicting things for us to sweep up. For hours on end. in a 100mx50m grain bin. Sweeping up in this envronment has to be one of the most lonley and systematically soul destroying tasks in the world, to say nothing of the mind numbing repetitive tedium. Throw listening to Radio 1 (which plays the same set of songs over and over all day, whilst currently hyping up Robbie Williams for no discernable reason) into the mix and you've got a recepie for thorwing yourself off the high gantrys. Baird's Malt (or "The Company" as I have now dubbed it) are also guilty of grade A gender discrimination. The sweeping up and genral manual labour have been assigned to myself an the other male applicant, whilst the girls are doing the laboratory jobs. Since we all applied for the SAME lab jobs, I feel I may well have a cse to put forward to the DTA. The girls themselves are also less than pleased with the situation, and jump at the chance to help with the manual tasks.

But the worst bloody thing is the dust. Every day I have to wear one of those skin-irritating white face-masks, whilst I wade through reams of grain airborne clouds of dust that billow out whilst we sweep. I am covered in the stuff by the end of it. For a minimum wage job, this is just fucking outragous. Hell, even manning a till at Tesco's had more dignity to it that working in that demoralising sweatshop.

As ever, one song alone is pulling me through the emotional wreckage, but it had now been joined by another aural masterpiece: "Duvet" by a very obscure (as ever) British called "Boa". They're playing in London soon, but I'm working. Bollocks.

Plus it was Turriff Show today. For the most part, I avoided it, but I did have to wade in towards the end of the day. Naver before or since in history has there
been such a concentrated mass of ugly, ugly people.

Only 47 days to go before I leave this all behind for good.