I had a Great Insight the other night, which I thought I'd share with LiveJournal ("All the peer review that matters"):
I was in the pub, and I wasn't drinking, despite having had a scary interview in the morning. Normally I'd welcome the chance of a few pints to dull the memory of my own uselessness; this time, however, I decided not to; and I think some part of me thought that by being virtuous, by not taking the easy way out, I'd just come to feel better about it naturally.
It's just not true.
Drinking to drown your sorrows does help. That's my great and sad insight: that everyday tragedies don't have neat endings with a moral.
Currently waiting for the rejection phone call from the Refugee Council (they promised they'd phone between 9 and 12 today). When that comes through, I'll phone the next place and tell them I will do their interview, I will allow myself another chance to fail. (Everyday eclipses.)
Update: As expected. <sigh>