I lost the cats last night. Both of them. The little furry rascals disappeared. Vanished into thin air. No amount of yelling, whistling and tongue-clicking on the back step could bring them home. Not even the ceremonial opening of the cat food tin brought them galloping through the catflap.
I assumed that all the upheaval of Nicky moving out and me moving in had sent them off for a couple of days to sulk somewhere.
I was wrong.
I left the back door open for quite a large chunk of the evening while I ferried stuff in from the car. I left the boot lid up for quite a long time, too. A cursory examination of the back of the car revealed nothing remaining in there, and I didn't think to look in the front as there was nothing in there.
So, this morning I trotted out to the car to drive off to work and flung open the door to find:
two small, furry, feline faces looking at me as if to say 'Well! What kept you?'
Along with a pool of diarrhoea, courtesy of Loki who is not feeling at his best it would seem (a trip to the vet is already arranged for Thursday).
So, another late start for me. But I did manage to find Sainsbury's this morning, having taken an exit too early at the last roundabout!
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Friday, February 17, 2006
Can You Hear Me, Mother?
*Waving frantically to anyone from SOI who may be checking blogs for daily updates*
Hello there!
Well. I've made it to Friday lunchtime of my first week. Monday morning was a complete and total disaster. Motto: never trust the AA's Route planner to get you to where you want to be. I arrived forty minutes late, thanks to the fact that the directions were complete and utter codswallop. Fortunately they were all very nice about it, and it gave them a good giggle. I soon discovered the correct route and can now complete the journey in fifteen minutes, as opposed to an hour and fifteen minutes.
The one cat looks set to become two. I have in fact agreed to take Loki (ginger tabby long-haired tomcat) as well as Kit (tortoiseshell female). Went round to see the present incumbent last night and the flat absolutely stank due to the practically overflowing litter tray. I have already purchased a new tray, tray liners, and a huge bag of Catsan odour control litter. I've never had any odour problems with Wanda using this system, but then I do change her every couple of days and remove solid waste as soon as it is discovered in the tray.
I am going to have to keep on top of the grooming regime for Loki, obviously. I don't think the flat has been cleaned at all regularly - if ever. I began to itch within about five minutes which is very unusual for me. I don't suffer from cat allergies particularly but it got to the point where my eyes were swelling up and my nose was running. Hopefully the promised deep-clean by the landlady will be forthcoming before I move in on Sunday. I am equipped with my own cleaning materials anyway.
I seem to be spending money like water, what with having to buy pots and pans and knives and dish towels and linens. Ah...we unloaded my car on Saturday morning as we decided not to drive over and drop a load of stuff off before Sunday after all. One of the bags was in the way where I'd left it so was moved, and this of course was the bag with the bedding, the dish and bath towels, and my comfy work shoes in. So I had to go out and buy linens, and have been tottering about in dolly-bird strappy heels all week. Except for yesterday when I rebelled and wore my blue suede trainers all day. No-one appeared to give a damn. I bought a new pair of shoes yesterday evening and while they are very nice, they aren't my comfy flatties!
Last Sunday I arrived at the flat around 10:20 in the evening, having got lost twice (not the fault of the AA this time but entirely down to me being a muppet). Himself was bouncing on the spot with worry as I was nearly 45 minutes behind him, though partly this was due to the detour and partly the fact that the crimson brick at present is battling to reach 70. Ray the electrician was still working away, and to make matters worse he'd managed to put a jigsaw through a water pipe so I had a flood too.
Ray eventually had to be ejected at around midnight - forcibly. He was told to come back the next day. Which he did. Not long after everyone had gone, I made a visit to the powder room as it were, and discovered on flushing that there was more water jetting out either side of the pipe leading from the cistern to the bowl.
Ray had to be forcibly removed again on Monday, having promised to do only two small jobs. I had dinner at the local pub (I need a third and fourth mortgage to do that, I tell you) and got back at half past nine, having spent half an hour hanging around outside talking to himself on the phone. Phil the landlord eventually came to my rescue just after ten. Ray has since been barred from the flat. Hooray! And Mark the plasterer fixed the loo for me. Appears Ray must have moved it to do some wiring and put it back wrongly. Silly sod.
The job seems fine. The town is a typical small to medium market town with a small range of shops and - as for anywhere during the day - the usual motley assortment of passers-by. It's quite busy at the moment as the schools are out for half-term, so there are lots of young folk around. The people at work are all lovely and so far I have no problems to report!
Expecting to be home either very late on tonight or tomorrow morning. Himself's car now has an oil leak so is off the road so I will be moving from one flat to another on my own. Hopefully I can persuade some of the lads who seem to be permanently hanging around the landlady's house to give me a hand with the heavy items.
Hello there!
Well. I've made it to Friday lunchtime of my first week. Monday morning was a complete and total disaster. Motto: never trust the AA's Route planner to get you to where you want to be. I arrived forty minutes late, thanks to the fact that the directions were complete and utter codswallop. Fortunately they were all very nice about it, and it gave them a good giggle. I soon discovered the correct route and can now complete the journey in fifteen minutes, as opposed to an hour and fifteen minutes.
The one cat looks set to become two. I have in fact agreed to take Loki (ginger tabby long-haired tomcat) as well as Kit (tortoiseshell female). Went round to see the present incumbent last night and the flat absolutely stank due to the practically overflowing litter tray. I have already purchased a new tray, tray liners, and a huge bag of Catsan odour control litter. I've never had any odour problems with Wanda using this system, but then I do change her every couple of days and remove solid waste as soon as it is discovered in the tray.
I am going to have to keep on top of the grooming regime for Loki, obviously. I don't think the flat has been cleaned at all regularly - if ever. I began to itch within about five minutes which is very unusual for me. I don't suffer from cat allergies particularly but it got to the point where my eyes were swelling up and my nose was running. Hopefully the promised deep-clean by the landlady will be forthcoming before I move in on Sunday. I am equipped with my own cleaning materials anyway.
I seem to be spending money like water, what with having to buy pots and pans and knives and dish towels and linens. Ah...we unloaded my car on Saturday morning as we decided not to drive over and drop a load of stuff off before Sunday after all. One of the bags was in the way where I'd left it so was moved, and this of course was the bag with the bedding, the dish and bath towels, and my comfy work shoes in. So I had to go out and buy linens, and have been tottering about in dolly-bird strappy heels all week. Except for yesterday when I rebelled and wore my blue suede trainers all day. No-one appeared to give a damn. I bought a new pair of shoes yesterday evening and while they are very nice, they aren't my comfy flatties!
Last Sunday I arrived at the flat around 10:20 in the evening, having got lost twice (not the fault of the AA this time but entirely down to me being a muppet). Himself was bouncing on the spot with worry as I was nearly 45 minutes behind him, though partly this was due to the detour and partly the fact that the crimson brick at present is battling to reach 70. Ray the electrician was still working away, and to make matters worse he'd managed to put a jigsaw through a water pipe so I had a flood too.
Ray eventually had to be ejected at around midnight - forcibly. He was told to come back the next day. Which he did. Not long after everyone had gone, I made a visit to the powder room as it were, and discovered on flushing that there was more water jetting out either side of the pipe leading from the cistern to the bowl.
Ray had to be forcibly removed again on Monday, having promised to do only two small jobs. I had dinner at the local pub (I need a third and fourth mortgage to do that, I tell you) and got back at half past nine, having spent half an hour hanging around outside talking to himself on the phone. Phil the landlord eventually came to my rescue just after ten. Ray has since been barred from the flat. Hooray! And Mark the plasterer fixed the loo for me. Appears Ray must have moved it to do some wiring and put it back wrongly. Silly sod.
The job seems fine. The town is a typical small to medium market town with a small range of shops and - as for anywhere during the day - the usual motley assortment of passers-by. It's quite busy at the moment as the schools are out for half-term, so there are lots of young folk around. The people at work are all lovely and so far I have no problems to report!
Expecting to be home either very late on tonight or tomorrow morning. Himself's car now has an oil leak so is off the road so I will be moving from one flat to another on my own. Hopefully I can persuade some of the lads who seem to be permanently hanging around the landlady's house to give me a hand with the heavy items.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Acquisitiveness
In readiness for the move, I went out shopping yesterday. Ooops...Monday now.
I bought: a 20" screen TV; a toaster and kettle pack and a cordless digital phone (I always wanted one of those and it was reduced from £30 to £14.99, so another bargain. And you must know by now that I do love my bargains!
I am going to persuade J to let me borrow the video recorder or something so I can watch movies. There's no point in getting a computer for next week as I will only be in that flat for 1 week and getting involved in dialup will be just too complicated to have to move numbers for the account after 1 week. Besides, I need to get settled so I can get broadband access organised. And as I am lodging in one flat for a week before moving to the proper flat, I don't want to have too much stuff to move.
Worryingly, I still haven't had a letter making the offer official. I know my reference has been sent over, and I am told it is good, but I can't help but worry. I did receive my P45 and last payslip from the old place this morning.
And L texted me to say that the doziest, laziest secretary from the personal injury department has taken my place in the family department as a fee earner! She heard that directly from uberboss this evening and is spitting feathers.
She keeps telling me she's bored with him now, she's had her bit of fun and isn't interested any more. Methinks the lady doth protest too much.
I bought: a 20" screen TV; a toaster and kettle pack and a cordless digital phone (I always wanted one of those and it was reduced from £30 to £14.99, so another bargain. And you must know by now that I do love my bargains!
I am going to persuade J to let me borrow the video recorder or something so I can watch movies. There's no point in getting a computer for next week as I will only be in that flat for 1 week and getting involved in dialup will be just too complicated to have to move numbers for the account after 1 week. Besides, I need to get settled so I can get broadband access organised. And as I am lodging in one flat for a week before moving to the proper flat, I don't want to have too much stuff to move.
Worryingly, I still haven't had a letter making the offer official. I know my reference has been sent over, and I am told it is good, but I can't help but worry. I did receive my P45 and last payslip from the old place this morning.
And L texted me to say that the doziest, laziest secretary from the personal injury department has taken my place in the family department as a fee earner! She heard that directly from uberboss this evening and is spitting feathers.
She keeps telling me she's bored with him now, she's had her bit of fun and isn't interested any more. Methinks the lady doth protest too much.
Sunday, February 05, 2006
I think I lost a post too, Johnny Bravo
I know I updated after we bought the new washing machine last weekend, I know I did. Hotpoint Aquarius 1600 spin, 6kg washload, fantastic little performer, reduced by about £180. Bargain! (I like my bargains).
But I don't see any post about it...
But I don't see any post about it...
What a difference a week makes
Well. OK. Eight days, between you and I. But never mind...a week sounds rather snappier somehow.
I have a new job. Fingers crossed I do. L wrote my reference for uberboss to sign and she promised she would make me sound brilliant. But...but...what if she didn't? What if they get my reference and change their mind about offering me the job?
See? See? I am ever the pessimist when it comes to good things happening to me!
I also - and you may say this is pre-empting things rather - have found myself a flat. I won't be able to move in to the actual flat for a week, so I will be camping out in one of the other flats for a week first. We went down to look at flats and houses yesterday and this was the very first place we looked at.
It was quite funny really, because we drove off the A1 into the village itself and J just yelped 'You are living here! No arguments!'. We drove on to the sound of: 'Ooooh! Oooooh! Look at that quaint little church!' (Car stopped in lane, exchange of meaningful looks). 'Oh my God! The post office is in someone's front room!' 'Argh! Would you look at the local pub! How quaint is that?!' (It really is all very quaint).
Now. The directions were kind of 'turn off the A1, go along the High Street, turn right at the pub, drive down Low Lane, take the left fork in the road, drive up to the security gates and press the buzzer and I'll come down and let you in.'
The main house is a former vicarage, set in five acres of parkland with trees some three hundred years old. A river runs through the middle of it all. There were sodding real bulrushes in the damn river! I mean! I never saw a bulrush in my life outside of Odsal (r. league injoke there, sorry). The lady of the house inherited it from her father, who bought it at auction from the Church of England in 1980.
The main house is where her family live, in part of the building at any rate. They also have a licence for civil weddings and can hold services in a suite in the house. They can arrange the whole package, including marquees in the grounds for the reception, caterers, bars, mobile disco, bands, whatever you want. We just kind of looked at each other at that point and went 'Ug'. It's like some kind of conspiracy!
Anyway, there is the Gatehouse (which is much more modern inside), living room downstairs and bathroom, kitchen and bedroom upstairs. Very nice, in a bit of upheaval because it is being rewired - they only recently bought this building from an investor. Then there is the Coach House.
Now. I have a cat, and I know if I don't keep right on top of the litter tray situation it can begin to get a little fragrant. The lady who presently has the ground floor flat in the Coach House has two cats with an overflowing litter tray. One tray between two cats. Never a good idea. Cat owners may know the slightly chocolatey smell of desiccated cat poo that's sat in the litter for a good few hours. Not too pleasant. That was right in the doorway - sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeet!
However. Bear with me on this. OK. Kitchen is less modern. Long and narrow with slightly cobbled-together units but nice black granite effect worktops. Serviceable. A mix of wall units, not matching but quite appealing in their own way. Cooker...bit of an ancient electric with eyelevel grill but it will scrub up OK I reckon. It all looks as though it really hasn't been taken too much care of, but it will be cleaned before I move in. There is a fridge-freezer that belongs to the present incumbent that I will buy off her for £30 as she doesn't need it where she's moving to.
The bathroom is a decent size. No bath, but a really nice modern electric shower in a new glass cubicle of a decent size, basin in one corner and loo in the third corner. The bathroom is at the end of the kitchen.
The living/dining room is massive. There are huge black beams in the ceiling and two three-lamp overhead lights as it is quite a dark room - the window is quite small and looks out on to the Jurassic Kueper Marl rock that used to form part of the river bed. It looks like a huge multi-coloured sandstone, full of holes and riddled with caves. The soft rock of the area is honeycombed with tunnels, apparently, from the old Abbey nearby. Prosaically, they keep the lawnmower in one cave and logs in another. It is furnished with a huge green sofa, three seater easily with big soggy cushions, a matching armchair, a gorgeous dresser, shelving units, brassbound coffee table, tv stand, dining table and chairs.
The bedroom is quite small - room for a double bed, wardrobe and a dressing table and that's about it, but who needs a massive bedroom?
It is painted white throughout, with the beams painted black. The doors are black. The carpet is a darkish blue, beige in the bathroom.
It has masses of potential to be a really comfy, cosy, homey place to live. Once it's had a damn good clean and been aired out a little! *lol* I am already planning all the things I can add to make it 'mine'. I have pictures that aren't up here at the moment for lack of room, family photographs that are framed but not on display as they creep J out, soft furnishings that I can take over that he won't miss (I've had them since university days for the most part). Then there are the silly things like the food processor, the hand blender, my paints, sewing stuff, that sort of thing.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. I had two interviews, one on Tuesday and one on Wednesday. The Tuesday place loved me but wouldn't offer me till I'd had Wednesday's interview and come back to them on what I thought to that. They thought I'd be snapped up. Well, I was. Or would have been. The Tuesday job required relocation on my part as it is too far a drive to commute daily. Another reason why they were fairly pessimistic that I would say yes to any offer they made. The Wednesday job was local to me, and they were very dismissive of the Tuesday firm due to the fact that it would mean relocating and would take me away from my home here.
The points to consider are these:
1) Which position offers long-term security, the chance to develop my work skills and obtain further qualifications and accreditation?
2) Which position offers the better salary and more chance of a bonus and a review of salary annually?
3) Which employer is larger?
4) Who did I prefer at interview?
From my perspective, on Tuesday I firstly met with the senior partner in my area of law. We had a good long chat, he was upfront with me and said he liked me, he could honestly say he would recommend to his partners that they make me an offer but he wanted to wait and see what happened at my next interview in case I liked them more. Then I met the managing partner and his wife (always a good sign). Then I got to have a long chat with the people I'd be working with in our office on a daily basis. In all, I was there an hour and three quarters, and my future colleague drove me to the station to catch my train and left me with the words 'I really, really hope to see you again very soon' ringing in my ears.
Wednesday...well, I knew both my interviewers already. I'd temped at this firm in York after I did my post-grad year. I knew the lady who owned the firm by reputation also. They have four offices, the other firm 5. However: she is the sole principal. It is her firm, take it or leave it. The main offices are in two different cities. The branch or satellite offices are tiny, the Leeds office - where I would be based - being a fee earner and two job-sharing secretaries.
They were quite cold at interview. It wasn't what you'd call a cosy chat, just straight down the line business. Contrast that with the day before, when we'd talked about people we each know (my favourite District Judge only used to be a partner in the firm, and is a regular Saturday golfing partner of the senior partner who interviewed me, so when I said he was a lovely man and one of my favourite DJ's, and told a little anecdote about him, it went down a storm), we'd talked about where I come from (my schooling is on my CV) and he turns out to be a keen hillwalker and knows my village well from many a holiday - in fact knows the family business well too. It was a real investigation not just of my work experience and background but a chance for him to suss out my personality - such as it is - and to see how I fit in to the firm's ethos.
I had a call on the Thursday from Wednesday's interviewer. She made an offer immediately and proceeded to go through the diary entries for the next month. Consider I might have been in my last post in court twice or three times a day, and seen two or more clients in the office as well. Certainly I never had fewer than two appointments in my diary each day regardless of other engagements. Contrast that with one or two hearings a week if I'm lucky, two or three clients a week and three days in succession with nothing in the diary at all. The post incumbent was taking work off people in other offices for something to do. Does this sound like a job with prospects? I thought not.
So, at the end of the day, there was very little choice.
Back to the accommodation. I mentioned the litter tray and that there were two cats. Well, it seems that the cats can't move with the present occupier and only one has a new home. So, I find myself - or will shortly find myself - the proud new 'owner' of a little, affectionate, slightly deranged tortoiseshell love-addicted feline who demands to be loved and fussed over by any human present in the room.
I think a larger litter tray, better cat litter and a regular change routine will soon deal with the odour problem. As will a damn good clean as already said.
Yes. What a difference a week makes.
I have a new job. Fingers crossed I do. L wrote my reference for uberboss to sign and she promised she would make me sound brilliant. But...but...what if she didn't? What if they get my reference and change their mind about offering me the job?
See? See? I am ever the pessimist when it comes to good things happening to me!
I also - and you may say this is pre-empting things rather - have found myself a flat. I won't be able to move in to the actual flat for a week, so I will be camping out in one of the other flats for a week first. We went down to look at flats and houses yesterday and this was the very first place we looked at.
It was quite funny really, because we drove off the A1 into the village itself and J just yelped 'You are living here! No arguments!'. We drove on to the sound of: 'Ooooh! Oooooh! Look at that quaint little church!' (Car stopped in lane, exchange of meaningful looks). 'Oh my God! The post office is in someone's front room!' 'Argh! Would you look at the local pub! How quaint is that?!' (It really is all very quaint).
Now. The directions were kind of 'turn off the A1, go along the High Street, turn right at the pub, drive down Low Lane, take the left fork in the road, drive up to the security gates and press the buzzer and I'll come down and let you in.'
The main house is a former vicarage, set in five acres of parkland with trees some three hundred years old. A river runs through the middle of it all. There were sodding real bulrushes in the damn river! I mean! I never saw a bulrush in my life outside of Odsal (r. league injoke there, sorry). The lady of the house inherited it from her father, who bought it at auction from the Church of England in 1980.
The main house is where her family live, in part of the building at any rate. They also have a licence for civil weddings and can hold services in a suite in the house. They can arrange the whole package, including marquees in the grounds for the reception, caterers, bars, mobile disco, bands, whatever you want. We just kind of looked at each other at that point and went 'Ug'. It's like some kind of conspiracy!
Anyway, there is the Gatehouse (which is much more modern inside), living room downstairs and bathroom, kitchen and bedroom upstairs. Very nice, in a bit of upheaval because it is being rewired - they only recently bought this building from an investor. Then there is the Coach House.
Now. I have a cat, and I know if I don't keep right on top of the litter tray situation it can begin to get a little fragrant. The lady who presently has the ground floor flat in the Coach House has two cats with an overflowing litter tray. One tray between two cats. Never a good idea. Cat owners may know the slightly chocolatey smell of desiccated cat poo that's sat in the litter for a good few hours. Not too pleasant. That was right in the doorway - sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeet!
However. Bear with me on this. OK. Kitchen is less modern. Long and narrow with slightly cobbled-together units but nice black granite effect worktops. Serviceable. A mix of wall units, not matching but quite appealing in their own way. Cooker...bit of an ancient electric with eyelevel grill but it will scrub up OK I reckon. It all looks as though it really hasn't been taken too much care of, but it will be cleaned before I move in. There is a fridge-freezer that belongs to the present incumbent that I will buy off her for £30 as she doesn't need it where she's moving to.
The bathroom is a decent size. No bath, but a really nice modern electric shower in a new glass cubicle of a decent size, basin in one corner and loo in the third corner. The bathroom is at the end of the kitchen.
The living/dining room is massive. There are huge black beams in the ceiling and two three-lamp overhead lights as it is quite a dark room - the window is quite small and looks out on to the Jurassic Kueper Marl rock that used to form part of the river bed. It looks like a huge multi-coloured sandstone, full of holes and riddled with caves. The soft rock of the area is honeycombed with tunnels, apparently, from the old Abbey nearby. Prosaically, they keep the lawnmower in one cave and logs in another. It is furnished with a huge green sofa, three seater easily with big soggy cushions, a matching armchair, a gorgeous dresser, shelving units, brassbound coffee table, tv stand, dining table and chairs.
The bedroom is quite small - room for a double bed, wardrobe and a dressing table and that's about it, but who needs a massive bedroom?
It is painted white throughout, with the beams painted black. The doors are black. The carpet is a darkish blue, beige in the bathroom.
It has masses of potential to be a really comfy, cosy, homey place to live. Once it's had a damn good clean and been aired out a little! *lol* I am already planning all the things I can add to make it 'mine'. I have pictures that aren't up here at the moment for lack of room, family photographs that are framed but not on display as they creep J out, soft furnishings that I can take over that he won't miss (I've had them since university days for the most part). Then there are the silly things like the food processor, the hand blender, my paints, sewing stuff, that sort of thing.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. I had two interviews, one on Tuesday and one on Wednesday. The Tuesday place loved me but wouldn't offer me till I'd had Wednesday's interview and come back to them on what I thought to that. They thought I'd be snapped up. Well, I was. Or would have been. The Tuesday job required relocation on my part as it is too far a drive to commute daily. Another reason why they were fairly pessimistic that I would say yes to any offer they made. The Wednesday job was local to me, and they were very dismissive of the Tuesday firm due to the fact that it would mean relocating and would take me away from my home here.
The points to consider are these:
1) Which position offers long-term security, the chance to develop my work skills and obtain further qualifications and accreditation?
2) Which position offers the better salary and more chance of a bonus and a review of salary annually?
3) Which employer is larger?
4) Who did I prefer at interview?
From my perspective, on Tuesday I firstly met with the senior partner in my area of law. We had a good long chat, he was upfront with me and said he liked me, he could honestly say he would recommend to his partners that they make me an offer but he wanted to wait and see what happened at my next interview in case I liked them more. Then I met the managing partner and his wife (always a good sign). Then I got to have a long chat with the people I'd be working with in our office on a daily basis. In all, I was there an hour and three quarters, and my future colleague drove me to the station to catch my train and left me with the words 'I really, really hope to see you again very soon' ringing in my ears.
Wednesday...well, I knew both my interviewers already. I'd temped at this firm in York after I did my post-grad year. I knew the lady who owned the firm by reputation also. They have four offices, the other firm 5. However: she is the sole principal. It is her firm, take it or leave it. The main offices are in two different cities. The branch or satellite offices are tiny, the Leeds office - where I would be based - being a fee earner and two job-sharing secretaries.
They were quite cold at interview. It wasn't what you'd call a cosy chat, just straight down the line business. Contrast that with the day before, when we'd talked about people we each know (my favourite District Judge only used to be a partner in the firm, and is a regular Saturday golfing partner of the senior partner who interviewed me, so when I said he was a lovely man and one of my favourite DJ's, and told a little anecdote about him, it went down a storm), we'd talked about where I come from (my schooling is on my CV) and he turns out to be a keen hillwalker and knows my village well from many a holiday - in fact knows the family business well too. It was a real investigation not just of my work experience and background but a chance for him to suss out my personality - such as it is - and to see how I fit in to the firm's ethos.
I had a call on the Thursday from Wednesday's interviewer. She made an offer immediately and proceeded to go through the diary entries for the next month. Consider I might have been in my last post in court twice or three times a day, and seen two or more clients in the office as well. Certainly I never had fewer than two appointments in my diary each day regardless of other engagements. Contrast that with one or two hearings a week if I'm lucky, two or three clients a week and three days in succession with nothing in the diary at all. The post incumbent was taking work off people in other offices for something to do. Does this sound like a job with prospects? I thought not.
So, at the end of the day, there was very little choice.
Back to the accommodation. I mentioned the litter tray and that there were two cats. Well, it seems that the cats can't move with the present occupier and only one has a new home. So, I find myself - or will shortly find myself - the proud new 'owner' of a little, affectionate, slightly deranged tortoiseshell love-addicted feline who demands to be loved and fussed over by any human present in the room.
I think a larger litter tray, better cat litter and a regular change routine will soon deal with the odour problem. As will a damn good clean as already said.
Yes. What a difference a week makes.
Saturday, January 28, 2006
I've (not) Got a Washing Machine
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.
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.
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.
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