Sore fingers

My fingers are crossed so tightly I can't even feel them. A couple of weeks ago I attended an interview with Keoghs, a company of solicitors who specialise in business law.
The job advertisement was unusual because it asked specifically for "intelligence analysts" with either military or police backgrounds. Talk about square peg for a square hole!
So, after two hours of psychometric testing, an hour of sample casework, and an hour long interview, I left the building thinking that I wanted this job more than I'd ever wanted any other job before.
The results will be out by next Wednesday. I'm almost finding it difficult to sleep. If successful I'll be working to track down gangs involved in staging car accidents to make bogus insurance claims. As well as a big pay rise it will also be a chance at a job that actually involves thinking for a living.
I would have blogged about this sooner, but I almost feel like it's unlucky to announce it. I just keep telling myself that there's no such thing as luck. But it doesn't make me any more willing to uncross my fingers.
I had a dream a couple of nights ago that I hadn’t got it. It was a very bad feeling.
Hold your breath with me…