This morning I ran my run (in relatively warm weather, and the humidity has been abominable all this late summer/early autumn, and now I’m just outside the Bodleian sipping a cup of coffee before going in to try valiantly to finish the James chapter. There’s a crux in the essay — not a particular problem with the essay, but a problem with me writing out what I think about a not-vitally-important point — that I need to nail down and put away, and after that I can send it off and get on with life. But as with so many molehills, having once stumbled over it I can’t now just turn around and walk past it.
My Monday interview was not successful, but I think that’s for the best. Once I saw the circumstances and what would be needed to make the post go, it became clear that the post and I were not a match. I’m still rueful that no chaplaincy availed for me, since that’s obviously the thing for which I’m very best suited, and which I’d do better than most of the new-minted clergy who usually get appointed to these posts. But there we are; it’s out of my hands, and there are always prospects of one sort or another around the corner. I have my eye on a couple of places that haven’t even been announced yet, so patience is the watchword.