It's 8 o'clock and the sun is just coming up. Looks like it's going to be a lovely day; the sky is all pale blue and pink, and there's frost everywhere.

So yesterday afternoon I was feeling very uncomfortable about not having let the doctors' practice know that I wouldn't be taking the job after all, and, after much indecision, called the overall practice manager. (There are two surgeries in this practice; the woman who hired me - the one I wanted to speak to - manages the one, and the woman in overall charge works out of the other one.)

Well. It was an interesting experience, and one that's taught me something about parenting.

See, when I called I was racked with remorse, feeling incredibly guilty for letting down these nice people, worrying about how they'd manage ... but after the practice manager had ranted at me for ten minutes I wasn't feeling guilty anymore, I was feeling annoyed, and totally unmoved by their staffing problems.

I strongly suspect that if you rant at a teenager who's done something wrong, the same thing happens - a swift change from remorse to irritation, followed by an attempt to tune you out.

I am amazed by how obnoxious the practice manager was, actually. Yes, I know it is bad manners to quit a job before you start it. But the job was only scheduled to begin on January 5 (though I was supposed to go in for some training next week) so they have time to contact the other people they'd short-listed and see if they're still interested. And berating me (at length) for my inconsiderateness (inconsideration?) really didn't help either of us.

Anyhow. I'm glad that's over. The only thing I still need to do is write them a formal letter of apology.

I really hope that the teaching job is as solid as I was promised, as I have well and truly burned my bridges with the doctors' job.