So. Four years or so ago - maybe even as many as five - we bought a new washing machine, the one my parents having donated to us when we moved in together having expired very suddenly.
We bought one that was advertised as a manager's special. Someone had bought it before, taken it home and had returned it after one use to the store, so it was a very good machine reduced in price by about £120. I had £50 worth of vouchers from my then job too, we used to get a bonus twice a year and would get little gifts now and again if the company share price was high or if they wanted to ensure a little more worker co-operation. So, this machine cost us I think around the £200 mark, which meant we got a really very tasty machine.
Thing about its having been returned once already (for aesthetic reasons, apparently) was that it couldn't be returned again by us once bought.
We took it home, filled it up, switched it on. And discovered that unless you set it to do a 30 degree c mixed coloureds wash, it wouldn't work. At all. So for four and a half years or so, I have been unable to do a whites wash, a boil wash, a quick wash, wash a half-load...any of the less ordinary washes you might wish to do. For a girl raised to believe that dish towels and hankies and underwear all got blasted at 60 degrees minimum, this has been pure torture. Certain things just don't seem properly clean, and I hate that.
Anyway, the buggering thing has been misbehaving itself for the last year or so. It arbitrarily would fill with water, turn the drum a few times and then would just go 'click...click...click' as the knob clicked aimlessly round the programme dial and the washing stayed locked in the creature's guts. I used to be blamed for overloading it. Load of rubbish, but if you switched it off and emptied half the load out and switched it on again, it would work.
Last Sunday, it ate one of my bras. I mean, it ripped one half of the back fastener off (the hook side) and ripped another part of the side arrangements off too. A whole piece of bra has vanished into the subterranean, stygian depths, never to be seen again. On Thursday night, himself filled it with his clothes, switched it on, and it filled with water. Then he went to the pub, yelling over his shoulder as he walked out the door for me to go and put the washing in the tumble dryer in an hour or so.
I forgot.
When he came home, the machine was full of water. It was still going. The drum would go 'swoosh, swoosh swoosh...*grrrrnkkk* swish, swish, swish *grrrrrrnk* swoosh, swoosh, swoosh' but would do nothing more than that. It never did play ball if you moved the programme dial to the rinse cycle or any trick like that, and it didn't on Thursday night either. The only thing we could do was switch it off so we could eventually open the door. It stayed full of water which it kept heated to the right temperature, but it would do nothing else.
It is now upside down in the back yard, with the door broken off and the drum detached from its mountings.
We've been looking at new ones but came home to consider the plumbing situation and to eat KFC *guilty shrug*. The new machines all seem to have cold water fill only, whereas the old one was both hot and cold, so we need to see if the little tap arrangement on the side of the pipe by the connector will actually serve to cut off the flow in the hot pipe, or whether we need to get some kind of stop piece or something.
Right now, the man is zonkoed on the sofa, fast asleep with a belly full of chicken. I am injuncted to awake him at half past three, no later. Yeah right. I know how hard he is to waken. I'll be lucky if I can get his arse off the chair in three or four hours. In the meantime, I have no water.
I don't much feel like talking about the W situation right now. Maybe I will do an update on that, maybe I won't. Right now, the world is alternately full of golden opportunity and very scary and black and with very little money. I hate change. Always have.
Saturday, January 28, 2006
Friday, January 27, 2006
I hate colds
And I have a real doozie.
The latest news:
I registered with the agency I mentioned before last night. They were ever so nice, actually listened to me when I said I was thinking of a career change and suggested avenues I may want to explore. They were also positive about temporary work too, although as I am unavailable a day and a half next week I think they may have trouble placing me.
I e-mailed my friend (well, his friend) at HMRC who got me on to the casuals register there last year, and he is doing the same for me now. There is a post at that level in his office but he thought it was earmarked for someone previously - he now knows it isn't and is dropping the pack off this weekend for me. It pays buttons, but better than signing on the dole. Temping can actually bring in more money, oddly enough, through the agencies, although casual work for the civil service does tend to be longer term, more secure, better perks by far. This agency does all the local authority placements and the university too though, and their terms and conditions are pretty cushy too.
Then of course, I have those interviews next week.
Something will come up. It will. I will find my perfect niche. I must believe that or sink.
The latest news:
I registered with the agency I mentioned before last night. They were ever so nice, actually listened to me when I said I was thinking of a career change and suggested avenues I may want to explore. They were also positive about temporary work too, although as I am unavailable a day and a half next week I think they may have trouble placing me.
I e-mailed my friend (well, his friend) at HMRC who got me on to the casuals register there last year, and he is doing the same for me now. There is a post at that level in his office but he thought it was earmarked for someone previously - he now knows it isn't and is dropping the pack off this weekend for me. It pays buttons, but better than signing on the dole. Temping can actually bring in more money, oddly enough, through the agencies, although casual work for the civil service does tend to be longer term, more secure, better perks by far. This agency does all the local authority placements and the university too though, and their terms and conditions are pretty cushy too.
Then of course, I have those interviews next week.
Something will come up. It will. I will find my perfect niche. I must believe that or sink.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
Gissa job
Go on...you know you want to.
I am now the demon of the scenario because I didn't tell L that Head of department was on to her sordid little secret. L is not speaking to me.
Do I give a flying fuck? I do not believe so.
Anyway. L is now very wise to the fact that everyone knows what she's been up to and no-one (save uberboss, and maybe not even him) thinks very much of her. Head of department is spitting feathers over it.
And I have no job, effective close of play Friday this week.
But...
I do have two interviews next week.
The man is yelling at me to find something temporary to start Monday morning. Yeah, right - I can't work at all Tuesday cos one interview is 200 miles away and I have to travel, it's at 12.30. Can't work Wednesday afternoon as I have to travel to the other interview. Whatever!
This sucks.
I am now the demon of the scenario because I didn't tell L that Head of department was on to her sordid little secret. L is not speaking to me.
Do I give a flying fuck? I do not believe so.
Anyway. L is now very wise to the fact that everyone knows what she's been up to and no-one (save uberboss, and maybe not even him) thinks very much of her. Head of department is spitting feathers over it.
And I have no job, effective close of play Friday this week.
But...
I do have two interviews next week.
The man is yelling at me to find something temporary to start Monday morning. Yeah, right - I can't work at all Tuesday cos one interview is 200 miles away and I have to travel, it's at 12.30. Can't work Wednesday afternoon as I have to travel to the other interview. Whatever!
This sucks.
Angry doesn't come near to describing how I feel
Head of department had a long chat with me last night, arising both from a jokey comment of mine and from some prompting from her secretary.
She reckons that it was L who first raised concerns about my behaviour at work. (I freely confess and have done before that I am a flapper and a shouter - when I feel out of control and stressed about something I tend to get into a real tizz and start yelling. It isn't personal, it isn't aimed at anyone in particular, I just get worked up and the pressure is relieved by dint of a lot of waving of arms, slamming about and swearing a blue streak. Not the most grown-up of ways to behave, and something I have worked hard on not doing any more, with quite a degree of success. A notable degree of success where it matters).
Yes, indeed, it was L who raised concerns with uberboss about my behaviour even before Head of department came on board which was a couple of weeks later.
H of d also reckons that this girl who came on Friday is a long-time friend of L's from Leeds, and that it was not in fact a chance meeting at court one day that lead to L telling her there might be a position going at our place.
H of d also commented that I have made real improvements in my work - when I do something well, my work is excellent. (She inserted the caveat that there are times when it appears that I have just abandoned one or two matters in the past, but that that seems to be resolving). A lot of that was down to inexperience and my basically needing to get to grips with the workload and the job again after so many months out of the profession and a little over a year after I'd last done this type of work.
The upshot is that she would like me to stay. I have her permission to tell uberboss that. She also thinks we need an Asian solicitor who can speak Urdu and Punjabi as we have a lot of Asian clients with little or no English. If it is a choice between me and this girl, I will lose out. But - and this is a big but - she says that there is no reason why we cannot have four fee earners in the department. There is sufficient work to justify that - we are all overworked and struggling to keep up, but the billing hasn't been too good in the last couple of months and we need to work on that. We need to really be bringing in a set figure, and we hit maybe one third to one quarter of that last month. I have several matters approved and awaiting payment, so I am going to check out how much I can expect to see on the fortnightly BACS statements coming up that is attributable to me and see how that goes down with the boss.
In the meantime, I am in a quandary. H of d knows about L and uberboss. She said I should tell L myself that she is on to her - I don't want to be doing that. H of d agrees that that ought to come from her as she doesn't want the situation ongoing. Anyone who can do what she has when she has a husband and two small children is more than capable of doing what I am told she has done, according to H of d.
I'm not sure who to believe. There have been one or two things that himself has commented in the past looked a little weird where L was concerned. I raised a couple of those with H of d and she was gobsmacked.
I don't know. I just don't know.
I have two interviews next week though, I can tell you that for nothing.
Today may very well be interesting.
She reckons that it was L who first raised concerns about my behaviour at work. (I freely confess and have done before that I am a flapper and a shouter - when I feel out of control and stressed about something I tend to get into a real tizz and start yelling. It isn't personal, it isn't aimed at anyone in particular, I just get worked up and the pressure is relieved by dint of a lot of waving of arms, slamming about and swearing a blue streak. Not the most grown-up of ways to behave, and something I have worked hard on not doing any more, with quite a degree of success. A notable degree of success where it matters).
Yes, indeed, it was L who raised concerns with uberboss about my behaviour even before Head of department came on board which was a couple of weeks later.
H of d also reckons that this girl who came on Friday is a long-time friend of L's from Leeds, and that it was not in fact a chance meeting at court one day that lead to L telling her there might be a position going at our place.
H of d also commented that I have made real improvements in my work - when I do something well, my work is excellent. (She inserted the caveat that there are times when it appears that I have just abandoned one or two matters in the past, but that that seems to be resolving). A lot of that was down to inexperience and my basically needing to get to grips with the workload and the job again after so many months out of the profession and a little over a year after I'd last done this type of work.
The upshot is that she would like me to stay. I have her permission to tell uberboss that. She also thinks we need an Asian solicitor who can speak Urdu and Punjabi as we have a lot of Asian clients with little or no English. If it is a choice between me and this girl, I will lose out. But - and this is a big but - she says that there is no reason why we cannot have four fee earners in the department. There is sufficient work to justify that - we are all overworked and struggling to keep up, but the billing hasn't been too good in the last couple of months and we need to work on that. We need to really be bringing in a set figure, and we hit maybe one third to one quarter of that last month. I have several matters approved and awaiting payment, so I am going to check out how much I can expect to see on the fortnightly BACS statements coming up that is attributable to me and see how that goes down with the boss.
In the meantime, I am in a quandary. H of d knows about L and uberboss. She said I should tell L myself that she is on to her - I don't want to be doing that. H of d agrees that that ought to come from her as she doesn't want the situation ongoing. Anyone who can do what she has when she has a husband and two small children is more than capable of doing what I am told she has done, according to H of d.
I'm not sure who to believe. There have been one or two things that himself has commented in the past looked a little weird where L was concerned. I raised a couple of those with H of d and she was gobsmacked.
I don't know. I just don't know.
I have two interviews next week though, I can tell you that for nothing.
Today may very well be interesting.
Saturday, January 21, 2006
Lead me not to the Tequila
Ten past three on Saturday afternoon and I am finally approaching the waters of near-normality. I hope.
Those who know me through this blog will by now be convinced that I am some kind of alcohol-dependent, shambling wreck. I'm not, honest. Really I'm not. We just ended up having a couple of drinks in the office after the department meeting, then going over to the Mexican again and having Margaritas and beer and good food.
Then we went home, and not very long after I arrived my neighbour came round and invited me over for drinks. So I went. And had a bottle of wine.
I think I need a good long break from such debauchery now.
The man rang the Nuffield yesterday. He will shortly receive a letter inviting him to another appointment with the good Professor McM who will then give him an operation date. Probably about a week after that appointment. He has to follow a special diet for a week to shrink the liver first, apparently. So he's supposed to have stopped smoking again. Which is presumably why he's out in the back garden having a fag.
*sigh*
Last night he asked me why I'd told his mother he'd stopped breathing for himself under the anaesthetic when he had his op last year. Up until that point, I didn't bloody well know that! His dad told him that that I had told his mum that, but I can't have done. Can I?
No news on the job front, in terms of a new job anyway. Yesterday I had the fun and joy of the person who may replace me coming in for the day to see what she thought of it. Head of department asked me if I was ok with that, I said yes and was patted on the back by her. Two minutes later, the person is lead into our room - the room L and I share - and left to speak to L for the morning. So I got bugger all work done and had to listen to L saying what a marvellous crew we are, what a great place it is to work and so on.
Which it is. She felt bad about it she says, but having told her all this at court three months ago - which lead to the girl being approached in the first place - she could hardly then say it was really crap.
Later after lunch I had the further joys of head of department going on in the department meeting about how WE had overcome all the problems of the crap files we'd inherited in the six months or so since the new people started, and how the new procedures had ensured we'd been given a clean bill of health by our consultants who ensure the LSC and the new peer reviewers will think we are great. The bloody cow - she joined in mid-September, two months after me, and has never worked on ANY of the pre-existing files. She brought her own caseload with her and that is practically all that she touches. And it is the likes of me and L that cover her bloody hearings for her.
I was so furious last night that if the uberboss had joined us as L kept asking us to I would have told him straight to his face what I thought to that.
He didn't fortunately.
L got very upset that he didn't and that he was quite dismissive of her, when she had come running at his beck and call the night before. She sent him an ultimatum and he said yeah, whatever in reply. She hasn't heard from him since and was in floods of tears when she got home last night. This whole situation - me with my job and her with this silly affair - is all part of his bloody powertrip, I'm sure of it.
I will end up getting bitter and angry and resentful if I carry on. And that is SO not me.
*snerks*
Those who know me through this blog will by now be convinced that I am some kind of alcohol-dependent, shambling wreck. I'm not, honest. Really I'm not. We just ended up having a couple of drinks in the office after the department meeting, then going over to the Mexican again and having Margaritas and beer and good food.
Then we went home, and not very long after I arrived my neighbour came round and invited me over for drinks. So I went. And had a bottle of wine.
I think I need a good long break from such debauchery now.
The man rang the Nuffield yesterday. He will shortly receive a letter inviting him to another appointment with the good Professor McM who will then give him an operation date. Probably about a week after that appointment. He has to follow a special diet for a week to shrink the liver first, apparently. So he's supposed to have stopped smoking again. Which is presumably why he's out in the back garden having a fag.
*sigh*
Last night he asked me why I'd told his mother he'd stopped breathing for himself under the anaesthetic when he had his op last year. Up until that point, I didn't bloody well know that! His dad told him that that I had told his mum that, but I can't have done. Can I?
No news on the job front, in terms of a new job anyway. Yesterday I had the fun and joy of the person who may replace me coming in for the day to see what she thought of it. Head of department asked me if I was ok with that, I said yes and was patted on the back by her. Two minutes later, the person is lead into our room - the room L and I share - and left to speak to L for the morning. So I got bugger all work done and had to listen to L saying what a marvellous crew we are, what a great place it is to work and so on.
Which it is. She felt bad about it she says, but having told her all this at court three months ago - which lead to the girl being approached in the first place - she could hardly then say it was really crap.
Later after lunch I had the further joys of head of department going on in the department meeting about how WE had overcome all the problems of the crap files we'd inherited in the six months or so since the new people started, and how the new procedures had ensured we'd been given a clean bill of health by our consultants who ensure the LSC and the new peer reviewers will think we are great. The bloody cow - she joined in mid-September, two months after me, and has never worked on ANY of the pre-existing files. She brought her own caseload with her and that is practically all that she touches. And it is the likes of me and L that cover her bloody hearings for her.
I was so furious last night that if the uberboss had joined us as L kept asking us to I would have told him straight to his face what I thought to that.
He didn't fortunately.
L got very upset that he didn't and that he was quite dismissive of her, when she had come running at his beck and call the night before. She sent him an ultimatum and he said yeah, whatever in reply. She hasn't heard from him since and was in floods of tears when she got home last night. This whole situation - me with my job and her with this silly affair - is all part of his bloody powertrip, I'm sure of it.
I will end up getting bitter and angry and resentful if I carry on. And that is SO not me.
*snerks*
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Navel gazing
Is that a posh term for woolgathering? For studied introspection?
I bought the local rag for the job vacancies, it being Wednesday. Nada. Although there are a couple of teaching assistant posts that might be useful if I do indeed want to segue neatly sideways into a career in teaching.
But do I?
Buggered if I know.
Had a client in this afternoon. Works for a recruitment consultancy. Having dealt with his matters, I mentioned I'd sought the advice of a rival firm and been very disappointed. Next thing I know, I have his e-mail address and am being urged to mail him and he'll fix me right up with some temporary work till I find a new job.
So, I shall e-mail him my CV and see what happens!
Don't feel like saying much else tonight. Feeling a bit flat.
I bought the local rag for the job vacancies, it being Wednesday. Nada. Although there are a couple of teaching assistant posts that might be useful if I do indeed want to segue neatly sideways into a career in teaching.
But do I?
Buggered if I know.
Had a client in this afternoon. Works for a recruitment consultancy. Having dealt with his matters, I mentioned I'd sought the advice of a rival firm and been very disappointed. Next thing I know, I have his e-mail address and am being urged to mail him and he'll fix me right up with some temporary work till I find a new job.
So, I shall e-mail him my CV and see what happens!
Don't feel like saying much else tonight. Feeling a bit flat.
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Arse
Gained a pound.
Suspect it has a lot to do with quantity of food and alcohol consumed on Friday night. That and the fact that I must by now be 'due', as it were. Although having not picked up my prescription in time last month, goodness only knows when that will actually happen as it was never very reliable at the best of times.
In respect of the moralising: it has been pointed out to me that you never know how you will react until you are placed in that situation. In other words, come back when you've been married several years and have two kids and are told to move out the way of the telly when you model sexy new underwear for your husband, and your boss takes a shine to you.
In a very gentle way, naturally.
True enough, you can never say for sure until you've walked a mile in their shoes. I like to think I would do differently.
No word on the job front. I am not looking forward to being skint again. It is not a condition that suits me whatsoever. I hope and pray that any spell without work is very very short indeed. Very short.
Time for bed. I think I may be getting gloomy...without benefit of fake hormones, PMT may well hit very very hard. My boobies feel as though they're about to explode 24/7 at the moment as it is. Why would not being on the Pill for a few weeks have such a huge effect?! It's like 'AAAARGH! AAAAAARGGGH! GERROFF! OW!' when even gently caressed, which is no good for himself's morale.
Ah well.
Night night, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite.
Suspect it has a lot to do with quantity of food and alcohol consumed on Friday night. That and the fact that I must by now be 'due', as it were. Although having not picked up my prescription in time last month, goodness only knows when that will actually happen as it was never very reliable at the best of times.
In respect of the moralising: it has been pointed out to me that you never know how you will react until you are placed in that situation. In other words, come back when you've been married several years and have two kids and are told to move out the way of the telly when you model sexy new underwear for your husband, and your boss takes a shine to you.
In a very gentle way, naturally.
True enough, you can never say for sure until you've walked a mile in their shoes. I like to think I would do differently.
No word on the job front. I am not looking forward to being skint again. It is not a condition that suits me whatsoever. I hope and pray that any spell without work is very very short indeed. Very short.
Time for bed. I think I may be getting gloomy...without benefit of fake hormones, PMT may well hit very very hard. My boobies feel as though they're about to explode 24/7 at the moment as it is. Why would not being on the Pill for a few weeks have such a huge effect?! It's like 'AAAARGH! AAAAAARGGGH! GERROFF! OW!' when even gently caressed, which is no good for himself's morale.
Ah well.
Night night, sleep tight, don't let the bed bugs bite.
Monday, January 16, 2006
Keep it short, sleepy
Yes boss.
L managed to talk her way out of a tight spot.
Uberboss spent a lot of the day texting her again. For some reason she still hasn't told him to bugger off and leave her alone.
Strange, that.
I find it all very depressing. I am even more depressed at the news that another married friend of mine on the staff slept with a guy she met in the last club we went to on Friday night.
I keep wondering: am I being unrealistic here? Am I over-moralising? I just think it's so totally wrong to be playing the field when you are married with kids. More wrong than it would be otherwise. I just wasn't brought up that way. Whatever happened to self-respect and doing the right thing, making a life-long commitment, all that jazz?
That is what I believe in. I have never 'done' the whole casual sex thing. That has a lot to do with the fact that I find it very hard to believe anyone would be interested in me in that way (and that I have always been terrible at reading interested signals). It is though a lot to do with the way I was raised. 'Always keep your morals on a ten-foot pole' was one of my mother's favourite sayings. In other words, keep your standards high!
I don't think for a minute that the rest of the world should follow my example. *snorts* I just hate to see my friends acting so foolishly when there is so much at stake if they are found out. Maybe they never will be. In that case, all they need to worry about is squaring it with their own conscience.
For my own peace of mind, I think I should just put it all out of mind and get on with worrying about my own situation!
L managed to talk her way out of a tight spot.
Uberboss spent a lot of the day texting her again. For some reason she still hasn't told him to bugger off and leave her alone.
Strange, that.
I find it all very depressing. I am even more depressed at the news that another married friend of mine on the staff slept with a guy she met in the last club we went to on Friday night.
I keep wondering: am I being unrealistic here? Am I over-moralising? I just think it's so totally wrong to be playing the field when you are married with kids. More wrong than it would be otherwise. I just wasn't brought up that way. Whatever happened to self-respect and doing the right thing, making a life-long commitment, all that jazz?
That is what I believe in. I have never 'done' the whole casual sex thing. That has a lot to do with the fact that I find it very hard to believe anyone would be interested in me in that way (and that I have always been terrible at reading interested signals). It is though a lot to do with the way I was raised. 'Always keep your morals on a ten-foot pole' was one of my mother's favourite sayings. In other words, keep your standards high!
I don't think for a minute that the rest of the world should follow my example. *snorts* I just hate to see my friends acting so foolishly when there is so much at stake if they are found out. Maybe they never will be. In that case, all they need to worry about is squaring it with their own conscience.
For my own peace of mind, I think I should just put it all out of mind and get on with worrying about my own situation!
Fasten your seat belts
...we could be in for a bumpy landing.
Off to work shortly, not heard anything since Saturday so hopefully things on the domestic front for L have calmed somewhat.
Now to maintain plausible deniability (isn't that a remarkably Clintonesque turn of phrase? Did I pinch that from him or some other American politician?) when asked whether there's anything going on by other colleagues in the office.
And I must not ask uberboss' nephew how he got on at the hospital on Friday night, nor mention Red Bull nor anything of that nature.
*meh*
Don't poop on your own doorstep. Nor where you eat.
There you are - two aphorisms for the price of one.
Off to work shortly, not heard anything since Saturday so hopefully things on the domestic front for L have calmed somewhat.
Now to maintain plausible deniability (isn't that a remarkably Clintonesque turn of phrase? Did I pinch that from him or some other American politician?) when asked whether there's anything going on by other colleagues in the office.
And I must not ask uberboss' nephew how he got on at the hospital on Friday night, nor mention Red Bull nor anything of that nature.
*meh*
Don't poop on your own doorstep. Nor where you eat.
There you are - two aphorisms for the price of one.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
On a lighter note
Girls can be quite as filthy as boys, if not more so.
We found a vending machine in Varsity that had saucy items in it. So someone bought a clockwork miniature penis and another person an inflatable sheep, with a hole in its bum below the tail...and the penis somehow ended up in there when we'd moved on to Edwards. Followed shortly after by the neck of a Cherry VK bottle. Photographs were also taken on various mobile phones. People will be In Trouble on Monday morning.
There was much consumption of alcohol, some dancing, and much merriment. All in all, a good night until we were persuaded to leave the one club and go to another.
I may describe it all in rather more detail tomorrow. At the moment I don't feel much like being funny. Or even attempting it.
We found a vending machine in Varsity that had saucy items in it. So someone bought a clockwork miniature penis and another person an inflatable sheep, with a hole in its bum below the tail...and the penis somehow ended up in there when we'd moved on to Edwards. Followed shortly after by the neck of a Cherry VK bottle. Photographs were also taken on various mobile phones. People will be In Trouble on Monday morning.
There was much consumption of alcohol, some dancing, and much merriment. All in all, a good night until we were persuaded to leave the one club and go to another.
I may describe it all in rather more detail tomorrow. At the moment I don't feel much like being funny. Or even attempting it.
Calamity strikes
We have coined a new description for ourselves, my work colleagues and I who were out on the town on Friday night. Unfortunately if I told you what it was I'd have to kill you, because it involves the name of the firm where I work which would lead to identification of the guilty parties mentioned herein - or some of them at any rate.
Quite a night we had, too. Two of us started off having a meal in a Mexican restaurant near the office. Very nice indeed, first time I've ever had 'proper' Mexican food and it was lovely. Had something called lamb sonoran, a kind of huge soft tortilla, filled with a very mildly spiced tender lamb stew, smothered in salad with a blob of soured cream on top.
Unfortunately for L, she neglected to delete her message inbox on her mobile and her husband read the texts from last night, including the 'I love you and would never do anything to hurt you' message that uberboss sent after she accused him of playing silly buggers with her getting her over to the Loveapple and that she was angry and upset and wanted nothing more to do with him. And her husband checked her mobile this morning and read it...
Quite a night we had, too. Two of us started off having a meal in a Mexican restaurant near the office. Very nice indeed, first time I've ever had 'proper' Mexican food and it was lovely. Had something called lamb sonoran, a kind of huge soft tortilla, filled with a very mildly spiced tender lamb stew, smothered in salad with a blob of soured cream on top.
Unfortunately we also had a huge jug of margaritas and a pitcher of beer along with the food. By the time we got to the first bar just after half past seven, we were already quite fresh to say the least.
Being of a sensible nature these days, I had the obligatory shot to begin with along with a diet coke chaser, and made sure I alternated my drinks pretty much from then on.
We went to a couple of bars, then on to a club. Two of the five who ended up going out went off to get something to eat, and not long after uberboss texted L and tried to persuade her to go and join him in another club. He and the lads had been out on the tiles in Leeds, while we were out in Bradford, but they'd come back through. L had been texting him all night and he her, and the messages were getting a little on the ridiculous side. He started asking her whether she loved him, which she found a little alarming. Earlier in the day (back at work) he'd texted her to say he was very fond of her.
Anyway, to cut a long story short, the remaining three of us went over to the Loveapple to join him. What a dive...it made Sneeky (sic) Pete's down the Cowgate in Edinburgh look sleek and rich and glamorous, and if you know Sneeky Pete's, you'll know that that is saying a hell of a lot. The sort of joint where you can smell the weed as you walk in the door and there's a fight break out within five minutes, guaranteed.
I stayed at the bar holding the coats and getting another round in, while L and E went off to the ladies, L to fix the rain damage to her hair and makeup. I wasn't too keen on being left, especially as there was no sign in the bar area of the menfolk, but as the place is made up of a maze of small rooms, that didn't surprise me.
When the girls came back, L told me that uberboss and the lads were literally just leaving and almost immediately they walked past us - for some reason uberboss felt the need to stroke my midsection as he passed me!
Unfortunately for L, she neglected to delete her message inbox on her mobile and her husband read the texts from last night, including the 'I love you and would never do anything to hurt you' message that uberboss sent after she accused him of playing silly buggers with her getting her over to the Loveapple and that she was angry and upset and wanted nothing more to do with him. And her husband checked her mobile this morning and read it...
Friday, January 13, 2006
A quick burst before bed
One of those days that just makes you want to yell, really.
Why is that whenever I cover a hearing for Head of Department that it takes bloody hours, rather than the half an hour or less that most of mine take? It was only a bloody first directions appointment too, albeit an adjourned one cos the applicant never turned up last time.
And which muffin booked a client in with his mother to both see me including her giving me a statement and only asked for half an hour? Had to send her away as I'd another client right after. And client and mother were both late!
On the plus side of things, one agency rang to say they'd a job vacancy that might suit me in Leeds, which is fairly local. Reasonable salary, quite a big firm. Another firm advertised in today's Gazette, so I will revamp my CV and bang that off to them. And the other agency I have on the go came up with a vacancy in Worksop, which would take about two hours travelling at least either way, but the money is between £9,000-14,000 over what I'm on now.
Sheesh!!
Oh, the firm that number one agency put me forward to a week ago are interested, but they may want to fill their senior post first. Huge caseload otherwise and they don't think I'd appreciate handling so many cases that all need to be top-driven. Fair enough. That may however mean that it is some while before they're looking to recruit. Ah well.
Looking forward to a Mexican and a good night out now.
Why is that whenever I cover a hearing for Head of Department that it takes bloody hours, rather than the half an hour or less that most of mine take? It was only a bloody first directions appointment too, albeit an adjourned one cos the applicant never turned up last time.
And which muffin booked a client in with his mother to both see me including her giving me a statement and only asked for half an hour? Had to send her away as I'd another client right after. And client and mother were both late!
On the plus side of things, one agency rang to say they'd a job vacancy that might suit me in Leeds, which is fairly local. Reasonable salary, quite a big firm. Another firm advertised in today's Gazette, so I will revamp my CV and bang that off to them. And the other agency I have on the go came up with a vacancy in Worksop, which would take about two hours travelling at least either way, but the money is between £9,000-14,000 over what I'm on now.
Sheesh!!
Oh, the firm that number one agency put me forward to a week ago are interested, but they may want to fill their senior post first. Huge caseload otherwise and they don't think I'd appreciate handling so many cases that all need to be top-driven. Fair enough. That may however mean that it is some while before they're looking to recruit. Ah well.
Looking forward to a Mexican and a good night out now.
Thursday, January 12, 2006
Bleh!
Mornings suck.
Mornings are the suckiest of all sucky things.
Suckier than a parrot with no beak.
Suckier than the suckers on an octopus.
Possibly a whole family of octopi.
Bring in the squid and maybe even as sucky as that.
Potentially we could be saying that mornings are suckier than the entire family of celaphod and all the suckers of all its members.
Which reminds me of a joke...
Mornings are the suckiest of all sucky things.
Suckier than a parrot with no beak.
Suckier than the suckers on an octopus.
Possibly a whole family of octopi.
Bring in the squid and maybe even as sucky as that.
Potentially we could be saying that mornings are suckier than the entire family of celaphod and all the suckers of all its members.
Which reminds me of a joke...
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
There's no such thing as a free lunch
Well. There is, and then again, there isn't.
L took me for lunch today as she had a windfall. We went to our usual lunching-ground, mainly because it does bloody nice food for a reasonable price and isn't too far a stagger away. She paid, due to her windfall, but it occurs to me sitting here now that it wasn't really a free lunch.
It goes like this: friends do nice things for each other to say thank you for being my friend. In this case, thank you for listening to me think out loud about this particular situation in which I find myself.
We also wanted lunch cos we were hungry and usually go out at least once a week anyway. And we often take it in turns to pay.
I have this feeling now that I'm frantically reaching for a point somewhere but may not have quite managed to reach it yet. Any minute now I will end up base over apex, most likely, due to overreaching.
Head of department wandered in afterhours (I normally work after 5 - too much to do, too little time) for a chat. Have I fixed myself up with a new job yet? Nope, not yet, irons in the fire, yadda yadda. She said she'll keep her ear to the ground but hasn't heard of anyone local hiring. Where am I looking it? Which area or areas of law do I fancy? That sort of thing.
Interestingly, she confessed that she probably wasn't uberboss' first choice for head of department, but he was in a fix and needed someone to run things and she needed a new job to start pretty much immediately as the firm where she was a partner decided to junk their family/matrimonial department. She also confessed that this probably won't be her last job.
Wtf? You wander into a job, start stirring shit up for those who came before you and then admit you don't intend to stick around in all likelihood?
I'd better watch it - I may be in danger of approaching victim mode.
Anyway, I think we got a few things clear, so that w2as good. In a friendly way. No blood on the carpet or anything like that.
It's been a funny week so far.
L took me for lunch today as she had a windfall. We went to our usual lunching-ground, mainly because it does bloody nice food for a reasonable price and isn't too far a stagger away. She paid, due to her windfall, but it occurs to me sitting here now that it wasn't really a free lunch.
It goes like this: friends do nice things for each other to say thank you for being my friend. In this case, thank you for listening to me think out loud about this particular situation in which I find myself.
We also wanted lunch cos we were hungry and usually go out at least once a week anyway. And we often take it in turns to pay.
I have this feeling now that I'm frantically reaching for a point somewhere but may not have quite managed to reach it yet. Any minute now I will end up base over apex, most likely, due to overreaching.
Head of department wandered in afterhours (I normally work after 5 - too much to do, too little time) for a chat. Have I fixed myself up with a new job yet? Nope, not yet, irons in the fire, yadda yadda. She said she'll keep her ear to the ground but hasn't heard of anyone local hiring. Where am I looking it? Which area or areas of law do I fancy? That sort of thing.
Interestingly, she confessed that she probably wasn't uberboss' first choice for head of department, but he was in a fix and needed someone to run things and she needed a new job to start pretty much immediately as the firm where she was a partner decided to junk their family/matrimonial department. She also confessed that this probably won't be her last job.
Wtf? You wander into a job, start stirring shit up for those who came before you and then admit you don't intend to stick around in all likelihood?
I'd better watch it - I may be in danger of approaching victim mode.
Anyway, I think we got a few things clear, so that w2as good. In a friendly way. No blood on the carpet or anything like that.
It's been a funny week so far.
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Did Humpday come a day early?
Am I suffering from PMT or something?
Today I seem to be as down as I was up yesterday. I feel logey and grouchy and detached and quite frankly pissy. As in, 'don't fuck with me, you fucking fuckwitted fucker'. Which is so not me.
Aherm...
On the plus side: lost 3 and a half pounds this week, so only half a pound of the Christmas excess baggage to get rid of. One pound to go and I will have equalled the point I'd reached two classes before Christmas. Bah humbug!
I saved some points so I could have chocolate this evening too. Not making me feel much better, really.
I knew it was a mistake to do this. I saw an e-mail message in Himself's inbox (calm down - he was checking his e-mail at the time and I was in the room talking to him and he actually brought my attention to it). Anyway, this message was from one of his really good mates (the one who's helping him buy the engagement ring and is doing a reading at the wedding and being an usher). It was about this tv programme that was on last week about bariatric surgery and the risks and side-effects and it had really worried him.
Well, they don't call me a muppet for no reason. I watched the bloody thing thanks to Telewest's Teleport Replay option. Apart from managing that most incredible of feats of being both boring and at the same time sensationalist, it had little relevance to the procedure Himself will shortly be having. Our GP is totally on board and is committed to his aftercare 100%, she's been amazingly supportive. The surgeon who will do the procedure will be operating at a private hospital with the best of facilities, but the NHS is paying. The surgeon is one of the top men in the field in the UK, if not the top man. He's never lost a patient yet, and with every procedure he says they learn more and more so the risk of complications is decreasing all the time.
It still worries the bejeebers out of me though.
Today I seem to be as down as I was up yesterday. I feel logey and grouchy and detached and quite frankly pissy. As in, 'don't fuck with me, you fucking fuckwitted fucker'. Which is so not me.
Aherm...
On the plus side: lost 3 and a half pounds this week, so only half a pound of the Christmas excess baggage to get rid of. One pound to go and I will have equalled the point I'd reached two classes before Christmas. Bah humbug!
I saved some points so I could have chocolate this evening too. Not making me feel much better, really.
I knew it was a mistake to do this. I saw an e-mail message in Himself's inbox (calm down - he was checking his e-mail at the time and I was in the room talking to him and he actually brought my attention to it). Anyway, this message was from one of his really good mates (the one who's helping him buy the engagement ring and is doing a reading at the wedding and being an usher). It was about this tv programme that was on last week about bariatric surgery and the risks and side-effects and it had really worried him.
Well, they don't call me a muppet for no reason. I watched the bloody thing thanks to Telewest's Teleport Replay option. Apart from managing that most incredible of feats of being both boring and at the same time sensationalist, it had little relevance to the procedure Himself will shortly be having. Our GP is totally on board and is committed to his aftercare 100%, she's been amazingly supportive. The surgeon who will do the procedure will be operating at a private hospital with the best of facilities, but the NHS is paying. The surgeon is one of the top men in the field in the UK, if not the top man. He's never lost a patient yet, and with every procedure he says they learn more and more so the risk of complications is decreasing all the time.
It still worries the bejeebers out of me though.
Monday, January 09, 2006
Square eyed
I am a sloth.
Possibly a giant sloth.
Then again, I might be a three-toed sloth.
Came home from work, jumped into the jeans and the big sloppy jumper, cooked dinner (chicken and onions with rice and chicken goop, since you ask) and ate dinner in front of the tv.
Coronation Street (the first half hour). EastEnders. The second half hour of Corrie. Back over to BBC1 for 'Life on Mars' - quite good so far. Then - oh joy! - then! A quick flick round the tv guide produced the holy Grail: ER! The new series! Yeeeehaaa!
And then, ladees an gennulmen, then I watched a teensy little bit of the Matrix. The kind of cool but a little bit hysterical now you view it again bit where Keanu Reeves and Carrie Ann Moss stalk into the big building to rescue Laurence Fishburne from Hugo Weaving (his mother and father really should've thought before saddling the poor bugger with Hugo for a first name) and end up taking out a whole legion (practically) of security guards and SWAT team stylee geezers.
Bit skinny for my liking, Keanu Reeves. But sexy as all get-out in Constantine. Worth seeing, I reckon. And Tilda Swinton is damn good in that movie too. Which reminds me, must get round to seeing the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. And the latest Hairy Potter. I'm sure there was something else I wanted to see over the last couple of months too...when your partner can't sit down for more than thirty seconds without benefit of several pillows or remaining canted over on one buttock, it means missing an awful lot of current movie releases.
I think we might have to go to the cinema this weekend. Oh yes I do!
Possibly a giant sloth.
Then again, I might be a three-toed sloth.
Came home from work, jumped into the jeans and the big sloppy jumper, cooked dinner (chicken and onions with rice and chicken goop, since you ask) and ate dinner in front of the tv.
Coronation Street (the first half hour). EastEnders. The second half hour of Corrie. Back over to BBC1 for 'Life on Mars' - quite good so far. Then - oh joy! - then! A quick flick round the tv guide produced the holy Grail: ER! The new series! Yeeeehaaa!
And then, ladees an gennulmen, then I watched a teensy little bit of the Matrix. The kind of cool but a little bit hysterical now you view it again bit where Keanu Reeves and Carrie Ann Moss stalk into the big building to rescue Laurence Fishburne from Hugo Weaving (his mother and father really should've thought before saddling the poor bugger with Hugo for a first name) and end up taking out a whole legion (practically) of security guards and SWAT team stylee geezers.
Bit skinny for my liking, Keanu Reeves. But sexy as all get-out in Constantine. Worth seeing, I reckon. And Tilda Swinton is damn good in that movie too. Which reminds me, must get round to seeing the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. And the latest Hairy Potter. I'm sure there was something else I wanted to see over the last couple of months too...when your partner can't sit down for more than thirty seconds without benefit of several pillows or remaining canted over on one buttock, it means missing an awful lot of current movie releases.
I think we might have to go to the cinema this weekend. Oh yes I do!
Sunday, January 08, 2006
Down came the tree
It's always depresssing, taking down the Christmas tree. Off come the decorations one by one, then the two strings of lights (the plastic angels with their little haloes and the fluffy white ones). Then off with the angel, then the top part of the tree, then layer after layer after layer of branches is removed, folded flat, bundled with string and placed back in the big tree box.
Down with the tinsel from around the picture frame, and down with the green and silver foil tree dangling from the light fixture.
Away it all goes until December this year.
Moved the furniture back into place.
Calmed the cat down.
Swept the floor.
Another weekend over and done with.
Boing, said Zebedee.
Time for bed, said Florence.
Down with the tinsel from around the picture frame, and down with the green and silver foil tree dangling from the light fixture.
Away it all goes until December this year.
Moved the furniture back into place.
Calmed the cat down.
Swept the floor.
Another weekend over and done with.
Boing, said Zebedee.
Time for bed, said Florence.
Saturday, January 07, 2006
Friday was a strange day
It started with an interview at a very reputable and well-known recruitment agency.
I'd already explained to the young lady on the phone on Wednesday that I was looking perhaps for a move out of the field I currently work in. I was looking in the meantime for some temporary work once my present position ends, if I hadn't manage to secure a new permanent post by then. I made it very plain that I was disillusioned with my chosen field and wanted some idea as to what I could usefully do instead on a long-term basis.
Well, what she did do was to say that I should fight for the job I had given the reason I was having to move on. She said I should talk to the uberboss, to the head of department, and do my damndest to hold on to what I had. It was clear to her that I loved the job that I had and that I ought to be doing anything I could to hang on to it.
Then she passed me along to her colleague who deals in temporary assignments. Who signed me up and gave me an application form to complete and return.
What a waste of half an hour of my morning! And yet again, it appears that recruitment consultants are a complete and utter waste of time. 'Hello, I'd like to change jobs, could you please give me some pointers as to what I could do instead?' 'Stick with what you're doing'. 'i don't know if I want to, what can I do instead?' 'Just stick to what you know'.
Anyway, on to work. Where I found a very despondent L, who had texted me earlier to say 'hurry up and get to work, I feel like a dirty old slapper'. This followed her post from the previous night, in which she had told me she'd been naughty again and now felt terrible.
She went to the hotel with the uberboss. I knew that she would do from the get-go if I'm honest, and I very much think she did too. What followed was a morning for her of abject misery - she hadn't had a single message from him since the previous night and he hadn't spoken to her in the morning before leaving for court. (Not that she'd spent the night at the hotel - they were only there for a couple of hours or so).
He did text her eventually, after she texted him to ask if, having had his wicked way with her again, she was now used goods. It was like someone flicking a light switch, seeing the glow that came over her face when he (after a couple of hours or so) replied 'of course not. X'.
*sigh*
We went for lunch, where we discussed the matter at length. The upshot of it all is that she doesn't expect it to be a forever thing and realises that she is one of a string of women that he has on the go, but the way things are with her marriage she is quite happy with that. She's relishing the excitement and that someone finds her attractive. I don't understand how marriages can go so wrong...talking to her, it sounds very much as though she married C for all the wrong reasons. They just sort of fell into it after a couple of years, and then a couple of years after that first one baby came along and then another. Now she finds herself bored by her husband and hating the things about him that attracted her in the first place.
The thing about affairs though is that they are exciting, mainly because of the thrill of discovery and the fact that everything has to be so clandestine. It isn't about the sex so much as about how it all makes you feel: the plotting how you can be together, the anticipation of meeting and of the things that you will do to each other, the stolen moments in between longer liaison, the texts and e-mails and instant messages in which you plan each moment you will be together.
Or so I understand.
By mid-afternoon, I still had the words of that recruitment consultant tumbling through my head. I wandered into the uberboss' office to beard him about possibly staying until they found a replacement for me, but before I could speak to him he asked if I'd spoken to the guy whose number he'd given me. I said no, I hadn't, so he rang him for me and had a chat with him then appeared with his office number and a message to call him back, which I did. He doesn't know yet whether he does need someone or not, there are a couple of things he needs to sort out first, but he is interested and will call me in a few days to discuss it further.
Then I went back in to see the uberboss and had those words with him. It seems this Miss Hussain is coming in for one day to see what she makes of the place and whether she feels she could work there, but she hasn't been offered a job yet. It is up in the air as to whether he will even take anyone on or not. It is apparently not anything to do with any problem he has with my work at all, and it isn't because head of department and I don't especially get along. Now he is saying we as a department just don't bill enough money to justify that many fee earners, despite the fact we are stretched to capacity and the reason for the shortfall is that for six or eight months there weren't enough bodies to do all the work we have let alone get the billing and six-monthly claims done. So the files that I have will be divided between the staff already there. Which is to say, one part-timer, L who is supposed to work a four-day week but has managed only about a fortnight of that at best and head of department who is full-time.
Neither L nor the head of department is any too happy about this.
The upshot of it is that I cannot work until they find a replacement, but I can work to the end of the month almost - January 27th. That gives me an extra couple of weeks to find another job in, and I know that it is entirely possible to find work that fast because it has happened for me before.
My details are presently with a firm just down the road from where I work - L thinks that would be ideal because we could meet up regularly for lunch and keep in touch that way. And the admin staff are all saying how we'll all meet up regularly for nights out and what have you too. No-one wants me to go it seems, except the head of department. The uberboss maintains it is her decision, but I think he is shifting the blame on to her to an extent.
The fortnight's extension had to be okayed by head of department. It was. That means I will meet this Miss Hussain, and that I will be present at the family department meeting on the day she comes in. Could be interesting. Could be very interesting indeed. I reckon I'll be excluded from it if I'm quite honest. I can hardly see them wanting me in there asking awkward questions about billing targets and what-not.
The stupid thing is that the new procedures she and L have put into place have worked: all of the new files opened last month were looked at by our consultants and all were absolutely spot-on with no corrective action needed at all. A first for some years, according to uberboss. His department on the other hand got a bit of a slating!
I don't know whether to be optimistic about the situation or not, I really don't. I am at a crossroads, I feel it very strongly. I am still thinking I might wander into teaching instead, but I need to give more thought to that.
I'm not sure whether I mentioned how the WeightWatchers thing is going. Despite the mention of chicken foo yung, chips and curry sauce, I am still on track very nicely. It's all come in within the daily points allowance. I'm keeping a daily journal again and I much prefer that really, because it forces me to keep an eye on whether I've had my milk ration for the day, whether I've eaten enough fruit and veg, and whether I'm sufficiently hydrated. It really does help to keep me on track foodwise, much more so than the electronic organiser, useful as that is. It doesn't allow me to properly record as it is quite limited menu-wise and cannot be updated. Weigh-in day is Tueday, when I really ought to stay to class as I haven't yet this year. Although there's only been one meeting.
I am in something of a quandary now. Someone at a site I go to a lot which I really love to visit is linking a whole lot of blogs together through her space there, and I am not yet decided as to whether I want to post mine there or not. Right now I have it set to be private, so no-one can access it except me. Given that this is my diary, confidante, sounding board, whathaveyou, I'm unsure. I mean, who wants to know more about me? Who am I happy with knowing more about me? And I do gossip terribly in this blog of mine, so it isn't all just about me.
I shall keep thinking on it, that's what I shall do.
I'd already explained to the young lady on the phone on Wednesday that I was looking perhaps for a move out of the field I currently work in. I was looking in the meantime for some temporary work once my present position ends, if I hadn't manage to secure a new permanent post by then. I made it very plain that I was disillusioned with my chosen field and wanted some idea as to what I could usefully do instead on a long-term basis.
Well, what she did do was to say that I should fight for the job I had given the reason I was having to move on. She said I should talk to the uberboss, to the head of department, and do my damndest to hold on to what I had. It was clear to her that I loved the job that I had and that I ought to be doing anything I could to hang on to it.
Then she passed me along to her colleague who deals in temporary assignments. Who signed me up and gave me an application form to complete and return.
What a waste of half an hour of my morning! And yet again, it appears that recruitment consultants are a complete and utter waste of time. 'Hello, I'd like to change jobs, could you please give me some pointers as to what I could do instead?' 'Stick with what you're doing'. 'i don't know if I want to, what can I do instead?' 'Just stick to what you know'.
Anyway, on to work. Where I found a very despondent L, who had texted me earlier to say 'hurry up and get to work, I feel like a dirty old slapper'. This followed her post from the previous night, in which she had told me she'd been naughty again and now felt terrible.
She went to the hotel with the uberboss. I knew that she would do from the get-go if I'm honest, and I very much think she did too. What followed was a morning for her of abject misery - she hadn't had a single message from him since the previous night and he hadn't spoken to her in the morning before leaving for court. (Not that she'd spent the night at the hotel - they were only there for a couple of hours or so).
He did text her eventually, after she texted him to ask if, having had his wicked way with her again, she was now used goods. It was like someone flicking a light switch, seeing the glow that came over her face when he (after a couple of hours or so) replied 'of course not. X'.
*sigh*
We went for lunch, where we discussed the matter at length. The upshot of it all is that she doesn't expect it to be a forever thing and realises that she is one of a string of women that he has on the go, but the way things are with her marriage she is quite happy with that. She's relishing the excitement and that someone finds her attractive. I don't understand how marriages can go so wrong...talking to her, it sounds very much as though she married C for all the wrong reasons. They just sort of fell into it after a couple of years, and then a couple of years after that first one baby came along and then another. Now she finds herself bored by her husband and hating the things about him that attracted her in the first place.
The thing about affairs though is that they are exciting, mainly because of the thrill of discovery and the fact that everything has to be so clandestine. It isn't about the sex so much as about how it all makes you feel: the plotting how you can be together, the anticipation of meeting and of the things that you will do to each other, the stolen moments in between longer liaison, the texts and e-mails and instant messages in which you plan each moment you will be together.
Or so I understand.
By mid-afternoon, I still had the words of that recruitment consultant tumbling through my head. I wandered into the uberboss' office to beard him about possibly staying until they found a replacement for me, but before I could speak to him he asked if I'd spoken to the guy whose number he'd given me. I said no, I hadn't, so he rang him for me and had a chat with him then appeared with his office number and a message to call him back, which I did. He doesn't know yet whether he does need someone or not, there are a couple of things he needs to sort out first, but he is interested and will call me in a few days to discuss it further.
Then I went back in to see the uberboss and had those words with him. It seems this Miss Hussain is coming in for one day to see what she makes of the place and whether she feels she could work there, but she hasn't been offered a job yet. It is up in the air as to whether he will even take anyone on or not. It is apparently not anything to do with any problem he has with my work at all, and it isn't because head of department and I don't especially get along. Now he is saying we as a department just don't bill enough money to justify that many fee earners, despite the fact we are stretched to capacity and the reason for the shortfall is that for six or eight months there weren't enough bodies to do all the work we have let alone get the billing and six-monthly claims done. So the files that I have will be divided between the staff already there. Which is to say, one part-timer, L who is supposed to work a four-day week but has managed only about a fortnight of that at best and head of department who is full-time.
Neither L nor the head of department is any too happy about this.
The upshot of it is that I cannot work until they find a replacement, but I can work to the end of the month almost - January 27th. That gives me an extra couple of weeks to find another job in, and I know that it is entirely possible to find work that fast because it has happened for me before.
My details are presently with a firm just down the road from where I work - L thinks that would be ideal because we could meet up regularly for lunch and keep in touch that way. And the admin staff are all saying how we'll all meet up regularly for nights out and what have you too. No-one wants me to go it seems, except the head of department. The uberboss maintains it is her decision, but I think he is shifting the blame on to her to an extent.
The fortnight's extension had to be okayed by head of department. It was. That means I will meet this Miss Hussain, and that I will be present at the family department meeting on the day she comes in. Could be interesting. Could be very interesting indeed. I reckon I'll be excluded from it if I'm quite honest. I can hardly see them wanting me in there asking awkward questions about billing targets and what-not.
The stupid thing is that the new procedures she and L have put into place have worked: all of the new files opened last month were looked at by our consultants and all were absolutely spot-on with no corrective action needed at all. A first for some years, according to uberboss. His department on the other hand got a bit of a slating!
I don't know whether to be optimistic about the situation or not, I really don't. I am at a crossroads, I feel it very strongly. I am still thinking I might wander into teaching instead, but I need to give more thought to that.
I'm not sure whether I mentioned how the WeightWatchers thing is going. Despite the mention of chicken foo yung, chips and curry sauce, I am still on track very nicely. It's all come in within the daily points allowance. I'm keeping a daily journal again and I much prefer that really, because it forces me to keep an eye on whether I've had my milk ration for the day, whether I've eaten enough fruit and veg, and whether I'm sufficiently hydrated. It really does help to keep me on track foodwise, much more so than the electronic organiser, useful as that is. It doesn't allow me to properly record as it is quite limited menu-wise and cannot be updated. Weigh-in day is Tueday, when I really ought to stay to class as I haven't yet this year. Although there's only been one meeting.
I am in something of a quandary now. Someone at a site I go to a lot which I really love to visit is linking a whole lot of blogs together through her space there, and I am not yet decided as to whether I want to post mine there or not. Right now I have it set to be private, so no-one can access it except me. Given that this is my diary, confidante, sounding board, whathaveyou, I'm unsure. I mean, who wants to know more about me? Who am I happy with knowing more about me? And I do gossip terribly in this blog of mine, so it isn't all just about me.
I shall keep thinking on it, that's what I shall do.
Thursday, January 05, 2006
On succumbing to hype
Good godfathers...someone pinch me, I must be hallucinating or something.
Not only did I actually sit through the introductory edition of Celebrity Big Brother (a programme that is the televisual equivalent in it's pleb guise of used toilet paper), it turns out also that George Galloway is one of the celebrities.
Bloody hell...George Galloway: meets monstrous tyrants and says they're actually pretty cool guys regardless of the fact they have murdered or ordered the deaths of hundreds, thousands if not more people.
Michael Barrymore: young man goes to party at celebrity house, takes too many drugs, is brutally anally raped causing him serious injury despite being apparently hetero and winds up dead in the swimming pool.
It has been an odd sort of day, though. First of all it started off with the uberboss giving me the name and number of a guy who used to work for him who now works out of another guy's offices not five minutes down the road from me and telling me he is looking for an assistant, give him a call and introduce yourself. I mean - wtf?
Then I spend most of the day trying to persuade L not to go to a sleazy hotel with the uberboss after work and end up printing her the piddling directions off to get to the damn place.
Oh, and there was the client who threatened suicide...
Marvellous!
A definite chicken foo yung, chips and curry sauce day. Damn, I can't eat all of it now. I never could without feeling full, but now it really is quite painful. I was going to junk half the chips, but the bin had a load of crap on the lid, so I couldn't. Crap excuse, but there you go!
Not only did I actually sit through the introductory edition of Celebrity Big Brother (a programme that is the televisual equivalent in it's pleb guise of used toilet paper), it turns out also that George Galloway is one of the celebrities.
Bloody hell...George Galloway: meets monstrous tyrants and says they're actually pretty cool guys regardless of the fact they have murdered or ordered the deaths of hundreds, thousands if not more people.
Michael Barrymore: young man goes to party at celebrity house, takes too many drugs, is brutally anally raped causing him serious injury despite being apparently hetero and winds up dead in the swimming pool.
It has been an odd sort of day, though. First of all it started off with the uberboss giving me the name and number of a guy who used to work for him who now works out of another guy's offices not five minutes down the road from me and telling me he is looking for an assistant, give him a call and introduce yourself. I mean - wtf?
Then I spend most of the day trying to persuade L not to go to a sleazy hotel with the uberboss after work and end up printing her the piddling directions off to get to the damn place.
Oh, and there was the client who threatened suicide...
Marvellous!
A definite chicken foo yung, chips and curry sauce day. Damn, I can't eat all of it now. I never could without feeling full, but now it really is quite painful. I was going to junk half the chips, but the bin had a load of crap on the lid, so I couldn't. Crap excuse, but there you go!
Wednesday, January 04, 2006
Further ramblings: ranting is so cleansing for the soul
Well, well, well - what a to-do.
The latest news at the grind factory is that a Miss Hussain will be coming in a week on Friday, 20th January. I don't know whether that's her start date or whether she wants to experience a day in the mad house, but my colleague has been asked by the head of department whether we can clear the diary of appointments that day. Apparently she'd asked whether she could shadow somebody for a while, and is recently qualified. Bit of a bloody insult if that's who they're replacing me with.
My colleague has been having words with the uberboss, with whom she has been conducting something of a fling. Not the cleverest thing in the world to do with two small children aged 3 and 2 and a husband at home. Especially with someone who would literally have a girl in every port were he a sailor, rather than just a randy old goat.
So far it's been a one-off drunken romp (on his desk, on the floor of his office and goodness only knows where else) after the Christmas do, except now he is pressuring her to go to a hotel with him after work tomorrow night. And she is actually seriously considering it! By her logic you're as well to be hung for a sheep as for a lamb. By my logic, a drunken one-off is far more forgiveable if found out than an extended affair that continued in the stone-cold-sober light of day.
We shall have to wait and see what she does.
Anyway! She raised the issue of my leaving with him in conversation as she really doesn't want me to go, and he skirted round the houses for a little while before saying that ultimately the decision lay with the head of department (I almost slipped up and named the woman there - silly me)! She told him how much work I've been doing to help other people out and how my own work had suffered because of it and pointed out various other things, but he still says That Woman has the final say. And I know fine well what her opinion of me is.
In terms of my future gainful employment, I have taken small steps toward finding out whether I can get onto a GTP in either Wakefield or Kirklees. Kirklees would be preferable - easier to get to than Wakefield - but they seem more unattainable in terms of placement than does Wakefield. At the end of the day, it is only for a year I suppose, and needs must when the devil etc etc etc.
I contacted an agency I used to use who were crap when I was made redundant in November 04. I was frankly insulted by the way they spoke to me. I don't hold out much hope where they're concerned at all, frankly. Then I chased up a guy at another agency I've never used before, but I'm not too sure they'll bust a gut to help me out.
Then, finally, I got a text message from the agency who placed me where I am now. Seems my e-mail to the person who placed me went unanswered because she had a baby just before Christmas so was on maternity leave! I was right not to spit the dummy and re-send it to their general e-mail address, because her colleague got on to me within 48 hours of that and has already sent my details out to another firm. This firm happens to be a) a fierce rival of my current firm and b) about five minutes' walk down the road, which is great because my colleague L and I (and anyone else I'm friendly with at the old place) could keep in touch pretty easily in terms of us all meeting up for lunch regularly, as we do now.
I'm also going to meet up with someone at a general office work recruitment agency to discuss temporary office placements to keep me going, with perhaps half a view to a permanent placement. I've explained that I don't want to be pigeonholed and I'm at something of a crossroads careerwise, not sure what to do next and not really certain of how I can usefully transfer my skills or in which areas. So, we shall have to see what transpires.
I went to WW last night - first time in two weeks. No missed meeting payment as the class wasn't on last Tuesday as it was a Bank Holiday. It wasn't as bad as I'd feared - I could tell I'd gained weight by the feel of my clothes, especially my new jeans! Four pounds on - a minor miracle as I can easily gain a stone or more over Christmas. Back on track nicely the last two days - saved 4 points yesterday and 1 and a half points today. Hopefully I can shed most if not all of the extra 4 pounds in a week, two tops.
That's your lot for today - playtime now!
The latest news at the grind factory is that a Miss Hussain will be coming in a week on Friday, 20th January. I don't know whether that's her start date or whether she wants to experience a day in the mad house, but my colleague has been asked by the head of department whether we can clear the diary of appointments that day. Apparently she'd asked whether she could shadow somebody for a while, and is recently qualified. Bit of a bloody insult if that's who they're replacing me with.
My colleague has been having words with the uberboss, with whom she has been conducting something of a fling. Not the cleverest thing in the world to do with two small children aged 3 and 2 and a husband at home. Especially with someone who would literally have a girl in every port were he a sailor, rather than just a randy old goat.
So far it's been a one-off drunken romp (on his desk, on the floor of his office and goodness only knows where else) after the Christmas do, except now he is pressuring her to go to a hotel with him after work tomorrow night. And she is actually seriously considering it! By her logic you're as well to be hung for a sheep as for a lamb. By my logic, a drunken one-off is far more forgiveable if found out than an extended affair that continued in the stone-cold-sober light of day.
We shall have to wait and see what she does.
Anyway! She raised the issue of my leaving with him in conversation as she really doesn't want me to go, and he skirted round the houses for a little while before saying that ultimately the decision lay with the head of department (I almost slipped up and named the woman there - silly me)! She told him how much work I've been doing to help other people out and how my own work had suffered because of it and pointed out various other things, but he still says That Woman has the final say. And I know fine well what her opinion of me is.
In terms of my future gainful employment, I have taken small steps toward finding out whether I can get onto a GTP in either Wakefield or Kirklees. Kirklees would be preferable - easier to get to than Wakefield - but they seem more unattainable in terms of placement than does Wakefield. At the end of the day, it is only for a year I suppose, and needs must when the devil etc etc etc.
I contacted an agency I used to use who were crap when I was made redundant in November 04. I was frankly insulted by the way they spoke to me. I don't hold out much hope where they're concerned at all, frankly. Then I chased up a guy at another agency I've never used before, but I'm not too sure they'll bust a gut to help me out.
Then, finally, I got a text message from the agency who placed me where I am now. Seems my e-mail to the person who placed me went unanswered because she had a baby just before Christmas so was on maternity leave! I was right not to spit the dummy and re-send it to their general e-mail address, because her colleague got on to me within 48 hours of that and has already sent my details out to another firm. This firm happens to be a) a fierce rival of my current firm and b) about five minutes' walk down the road, which is great because my colleague L and I (and anyone else I'm friendly with at the old place) could keep in touch pretty easily in terms of us all meeting up for lunch regularly, as we do now.
I'm also going to meet up with someone at a general office work recruitment agency to discuss temporary office placements to keep me going, with perhaps half a view to a permanent placement. I've explained that I don't want to be pigeonholed and I'm at something of a crossroads careerwise, not sure what to do next and not really certain of how I can usefully transfer my skills or in which areas. So, we shall have to see what transpires.
I went to WW last night - first time in two weeks. No missed meeting payment as the class wasn't on last Tuesday as it was a Bank Holiday. It wasn't as bad as I'd feared - I could tell I'd gained weight by the feel of my clothes, especially my new jeans! Four pounds on - a minor miracle as I can easily gain a stone or more over Christmas. Back on track nicely the last two days - saved 4 points yesterday and 1 and a half points today. Hopefully I can shed most if not all of the extra 4 pounds in a week, two tops.
That's your lot for today - playtime now!
Sunday, January 01, 2006
Introductory babblings
Somehow it seems the whole world has a blog. Except me. So, I decided to remedy this.
I think the basic concept behind it is that one of my New Year resolutions is to be more organised in my thinking, and to this end I theorised that I ought to keep a diary or journal of some kind. And, given that I'm on the internet most days, an online version seemed sensible enough. After all, how difficult can it be to create a blog of my own?
Not difficult at all, is the answer to that. I am not exactly a Luddite, nor yet am I any kind of cybergeek. More kind of somewhere in the middle. Well. I say not difficult, but now I note that there are all sorts of tabs and whatnots that I have not as yet explored. How do I know where this will end up? The answer is that I have no idea. I like that sort of journey, though.
*Turning and shooting the CD player, which had begun to play 'Magical Mystery Tour'. Not one of the Beatles' finest moments. If they ever had any.*
I find New Year's Day depressing. I could never see the hope for the fresh start and the bright new future inherent in a brand new year. All I can think of right now is how little I want to go back to work, which is kind of ridiculous when you consider that I was told at the beginning of December that I would be finishing work in the middle of January.
So. I need to look for a new job. Yet I am dreading going back to the old one. I left work on my desk, undone. I know for a fact there is at least one hearing, possibly two, that I haven't yet dictated up on and one of those was an agency for another firm out of town. I have work that needs to be done on matters and with the court and the other side by the 5th of January. That's the third day back at work - will I be able to get the client in to take the statements and get them typed, signed and sent in time? Do I have a hearing in Oldham then? I can't remember.
You may divine from this that I have a legally-oriented job. Don't blame me. I just couldn't think what to do at university and so somehow settled for law, then blindly followed my nose into the profession. I did take a year out to think about whether I wanted to or not, though. Three years post-qualification though (nearly) and I am not convinced I chose the right path. I just don't know what else to do, that's my problem.
Part of the purpose of this blog is to get my thoughts down in writing so I can see them and so consider them more purposefully. What am I drawn to? What would I like to do? What is bugging me really is that the things I think I would like to do unfortunately invariably require a further course of study, which I haven't the wherewithal to fund as I need to continue to work.
For this reason, studying to be a probation officer or a teacher both appeal to me. More studying (which I love) and I get to earn money while I train for my new qualification. I'd like to teach English as I love passing on information and I love the subject. It was what I was best at when I was at school and I think I could pass that passion for words and books and so forth on to others.
The probation officer idea I went for last year - it is last year now. I got through to the final round of interviews and scored highly enough to be selected, but sadly others scored more highly and there weren't sufficient places for everyone, so I missed out.
Failing that, my beloved would love me to work for a local authority in some sort of capacity, either legal or doing some form of administrative job. He reckons there is no finer employer, given the perks and benefits that come with working in local government. He may well be right, and again I have had a fair few interviews in that area. No joy as yet, though. I will continue to go down that road though I think, in terms of making further applications.
This is, of course, not the best time of year to be looking for a new job. I find it objectionable that I was in the same position last year as I am this year - at least this time I had six weeks' warning, rather than coming home from a weekend away to a letter telling me I had been made redundant with immediate effect and not to bother going in on Monday except to collect my personal belongings.
However, things carry on regardless, and I remind myself that I am promised a good reference by my current employers. I am also in a better position in that I have been working in my chosen field in my local area and have got my face known more than it was before. Word is out that I'm looking, and it is traditional in the early part of the year for people to start moving firms, so all is not lost. And I can type and do general officework, so I should hopefully be able to find enough temporary work to keep me going if needs be. And it may very well be.
There may be tight times ahead, but I will get through. I WILL get through.
This year I am hoping to do several things. A holiday abroad would be nice. We're saving for some new furniture - a bed in particular as ours is broken. (Stop giggling at the back, there). It may finally be the case that marriage is on the horizon, but then that man of mine hints at that practically the whole time. First of all though he has gastric bypass surgery to get through, although his fears of expiring on the table have receded a little since his emergency surgery in November 2005.
I'd also like to get back on track with my weightloss, having joined WeightWatchers in September 2005 and lost 30 pounds. I have had a terrible week over Christmas and have probably managed to pack on at least five of those lost pounds, if not more. Chocolate chip cookies as a Christmas present, a box of Belgian chocolates from a friend who didn't know about the diet and too much generalised grazing on food without giving a hoot as to what it contained. As well as a box of Elizabeth Shaw mint chocolates received on New Year's Eve which I ate most of myself. Oh dear...
I think the basic concept behind it is that one of my New Year resolutions is to be more organised in my thinking, and to this end I theorised that I ought to keep a diary or journal of some kind. And, given that I'm on the internet most days, an online version seemed sensible enough. After all, how difficult can it be to create a blog of my own?
Not difficult at all, is the answer to that. I am not exactly a Luddite, nor yet am I any kind of cybergeek. More kind of somewhere in the middle. Well. I say not difficult, but now I note that there are all sorts of tabs and whatnots that I have not as yet explored. How do I know where this will end up? The answer is that I have no idea. I like that sort of journey, though.
*Turning and shooting the CD player, which had begun to play 'Magical Mystery Tour'. Not one of the Beatles' finest moments. If they ever had any.*
I find New Year's Day depressing. I could never see the hope for the fresh start and the bright new future inherent in a brand new year. All I can think of right now is how little I want to go back to work, which is kind of ridiculous when you consider that I was told at the beginning of December that I would be finishing work in the middle of January.
So. I need to look for a new job. Yet I am dreading going back to the old one. I left work on my desk, undone. I know for a fact there is at least one hearing, possibly two, that I haven't yet dictated up on and one of those was an agency for another firm out of town. I have work that needs to be done on matters and with the court and the other side by the 5th of January. That's the third day back at work - will I be able to get the client in to take the statements and get them typed, signed and sent in time? Do I have a hearing in Oldham then? I can't remember.
You may divine from this that I have a legally-oriented job. Don't blame me. I just couldn't think what to do at university and so somehow settled for law, then blindly followed my nose into the profession. I did take a year out to think about whether I wanted to or not, though. Three years post-qualification though (nearly) and I am not convinced I chose the right path. I just don't know what else to do, that's my problem.
Part of the purpose of this blog is to get my thoughts down in writing so I can see them and so consider them more purposefully. What am I drawn to? What would I like to do? What is bugging me really is that the things I think I would like to do unfortunately invariably require a further course of study, which I haven't the wherewithal to fund as I need to continue to work.
For this reason, studying to be a probation officer or a teacher both appeal to me. More studying (which I love) and I get to earn money while I train for my new qualification. I'd like to teach English as I love passing on information and I love the subject. It was what I was best at when I was at school and I think I could pass that passion for words and books and so forth on to others.
The probation officer idea I went for last year - it is last year now. I got through to the final round of interviews and scored highly enough to be selected, but sadly others scored more highly and there weren't sufficient places for everyone, so I missed out.
Failing that, my beloved would love me to work for a local authority in some sort of capacity, either legal or doing some form of administrative job. He reckons there is no finer employer, given the perks and benefits that come with working in local government. He may well be right, and again I have had a fair few interviews in that area. No joy as yet, though. I will continue to go down that road though I think, in terms of making further applications.
This is, of course, not the best time of year to be looking for a new job. I find it objectionable that I was in the same position last year as I am this year - at least this time I had six weeks' warning, rather than coming home from a weekend away to a letter telling me I had been made redundant with immediate effect and not to bother going in on Monday except to collect my personal belongings.
However, things carry on regardless, and I remind myself that I am promised a good reference by my current employers. I am also in a better position in that I have been working in my chosen field in my local area and have got my face known more than it was before. Word is out that I'm looking, and it is traditional in the early part of the year for people to start moving firms, so all is not lost. And I can type and do general officework, so I should hopefully be able to find enough temporary work to keep me going if needs be. And it may very well be.
There may be tight times ahead, but I will get through. I WILL get through.
This year I am hoping to do several things. A holiday abroad would be nice. We're saving for some new furniture - a bed in particular as ours is broken. (Stop giggling at the back, there). It may finally be the case that marriage is on the horizon, but then that man of mine hints at that practically the whole time. First of all though he has gastric bypass surgery to get through, although his fears of expiring on the table have receded a little since his emergency surgery in November 2005.
I'd also like to get back on track with my weightloss, having joined WeightWatchers in September 2005 and lost 30 pounds. I have had a terrible week over Christmas and have probably managed to pack on at least five of those lost pounds, if not more. Chocolate chip cookies as a Christmas present, a box of Belgian chocolates from a friend who didn't know about the diet and too much generalised grazing on food without giving a hoot as to what it contained. As well as a box of Elizabeth Shaw mint chocolates received on New Year's Eve which I ate most of myself. Oh dear...
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