Nothing to report. No rejections – no acceptances.
I think I know how this works: I am in employment Purgatory, whence (after appropriate levels of pain and torture, designed to purify my imperfect employee soul) I will eventually be allowed to ascend to the light and perfect peace of Paradise. There I shall fan the face of Ergos – the god of full employment – eat dates and sing his praises for all eternity. Bliss. It’s bringing tears to my eyes.