How come it never rains...
.... it only pours*.
We had a meeting this afternoon with the Grand High Chief Poobah of our organisation. Lots of pontificating and talking round the real issue…which is, in a nutshell, that the location I work at is closing.
It was on the cards really – anywhere that costs £1200 per month just to heat is never really going to be financially viable. Factor in the lighting, the council tax, the staffing and the ongoing maintenance (think painting the Forth Bridge while being followed along by delinquent pixies with sledgehammers, flamethrowers and Very Bad Tempers) and it’s no surprise that the place is lovingly referred to as the Money Pit.
So. I still have a job, it’s just that I don’t know where it will be. Best-case I have until September where I am. Worst-case I have maybe three weeks. Whatever happens, at some point this year I lose the luxury of working somewhere a ten minute** cycle ride from my house.
The problems are, as I see them:
1) I don’t have a car
2) I don’t have any money
3) Wherever I end up, it is going to be out of cycling distance***
4) I will lose some of my current before/after school time with Small Person
5) This sucks
6) I am resistant to change, in any form
7) This sucks
8) I love my job and don’t want a new one
Isn’t it a bugger?
Thing of it is, I do love my job. I can’t imagine going back to working in a dull, bitchy office****. I love the fact that what I do makes a difference (if moving pieces of paper in triplicate to various locations counts as making a difference, that is. Shut up). And even if I got a New Job, all the above problems would still be manifest. I have been spoiled rotten for the last six months and I don’t want it to change.
Also, I woke up with the word “otiose” resonating in my head this morning. This is odd, as it isn’t a word I am familiar with. On researching the definition, however, it turned into one of those story-of-my-life moments. Even my subconscious is fed up with me.
Gah.
* I hope the Other Half can tell me what song this is from. Driving me mad, it is.
**Alright, fifteen minutes. It takes up valuable breathing time, all that swearing about how I hate cycling.
*** This is, of course, anything more than a mile and a half away. I could get there, but there’s no guarantee I could make it home again. Have I mentioned that cycling sucks?
**** Around here, I do the bitching. And I like it this way.
We had a meeting this afternoon with the Grand High Chief Poobah of our organisation. Lots of pontificating and talking round the real issue…which is, in a nutshell, that the location I work at is closing.
It was on the cards really – anywhere that costs £1200 per month just to heat is never really going to be financially viable. Factor in the lighting, the council tax, the staffing and the ongoing maintenance (think painting the Forth Bridge while being followed along by delinquent pixies with sledgehammers, flamethrowers and Very Bad Tempers) and it’s no surprise that the place is lovingly referred to as the Money Pit.
So. I still have a job, it’s just that I don’t know where it will be. Best-case I have until September where I am. Worst-case I have maybe three weeks. Whatever happens, at some point this year I lose the luxury of working somewhere a ten minute** cycle ride from my house.
The problems are, as I see them:
1) I don’t have a car
2) I don’t have any money
3) Wherever I end up, it is going to be out of cycling distance***
4) I will lose some of my current before/after school time with Small Person
5) This sucks
6) I am resistant to change, in any form
7) This sucks
8) I love my job and don’t want a new one
Isn’t it a bugger?
Thing of it is, I do love my job. I can’t imagine going back to working in a dull, bitchy office****. I love the fact that what I do makes a difference (if moving pieces of paper in triplicate to various locations counts as making a difference, that is. Shut up). And even if I got a New Job, all the above problems would still be manifest. I have been spoiled rotten for the last six months and I don’t want it to change.
Also, I woke up with the word “otiose” resonating in my head this morning. This is odd, as it isn’t a word I am familiar with. On researching the definition, however, it turned into one of those story-of-my-life moments. Even my subconscious is fed up with me.
Gah.
* I hope the Other Half can tell me what song this is from. Driving me mad, it is.
**Alright, fifteen minutes. It takes up valuable breathing time, all that swearing about how I hate cycling.
*** This is, of course, anything more than a mile and a half away. I could get there, but there’s no guarantee I could make it home again. Have I mentioned that cycling sucks?
**** Around here, I do the bitching. And I like it this way.
posted by surly girl at 7:52 pm
10 Comments:
It's a pain in the arse having to move job locations especially when you've got a nice journey to work.
I work in Hounslow, which is a bit of a dump, but I get to go to work the opposite way to everyone else which makes me very smug.
YB just traded in a walk-to gig for a 60 mile round trip gig. but hey, it meant a raise in pay, and i get new furniture, so it's worth it. *cracking whip*
Bummer of the Highest Order Surly.
Where's my comment?
Bloody Blogger! (Or actually, I think it's Telewest this time)
Anyhow.
You love your job - how lucky are you?
(And "It never rains around here, it just comes pouring down" - Love Over Gold era Dire Straits is what I'm thinking...)
It's been a long time since I worked in a bitchy office.
We don't have any fun anymore.
Surly....they swopped my old falling down office with a view to a newbuild with no natural light and a fucking air circulation system that sounds like saturn 5 with engine trouble. I'm pissed....or will be shortly
car share if worst comes to worst? you are surely not the only one in this position? and of course, it didn't happen yet ... i'm still so proud of you *huge grin and hugs
That's a bit of a nightmare, I hope they don't drag you too far!
Delurking to say the song's by Dogs d'Amour, you'll never guess what it's called... I'm far too British and uptight to have delurked, despite similar experiences, on one of THOSE posts, so please take this as an expression of sympathy and support instead.
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