…was because of a reason. Several reasons.
I have been working on a job application rather than blogging much this week. I haven’t even done much on Twitter really. It’s a good job, interesting and varied, and it’s a good fit for my qualifications. Worth putting the effort in.
Also I had to deal with window fixing people and a visit from the landlord to check I hadn’t painted all the walls black, carved a pentacle into the carpet and filled the freezer with the dismembered corpses of the other flats’ residents. So I had to do a bit of quick tidying up…
The old pictures of this building show no windows in the wall that has the bedroom. The window in my flat and in the two below were set into the old chimney breast, it seems. So the storm hit the chimney wall straight on, came down the inside of the chimney and I thought it was coming through the top of the window but it wasn’t leaking there. It was leaking further up.
Anyway, I got off lightly because most of it went past me and into the flats below. The bottom flat got the really crappy end of the deal. I just have a slowly drying damp bit around the window. All their carpets were piled up outside.
The fixers needed loft access to check the walls and I have the loft. So I had to do a bit of quick tidying up before they arrived…
They fixed something but won’t know if it’s worked until the next storm, which will hopefully be after I move out. I want a garden and fewer stairs. The six month lease is up at the end of February and it’s monthly after that. I start looking in February. A bit more leisurely this time, since I don’t have to hurry.
This week was also rent week, which meant chasing a company that owed me a wad of cash so I could pay the rent. They cut it pretty damn fine this time but the rent is paid. The emergency came about because just for once, the lab rent was debited on time. They are always a month late except when I have little money, then they are on time. The buggers cleaned me out on January 1st. I thought ‘Happy New Year to you too, you bastards’. All fixed at last, I am solvent again. For now.
Home rent is paid for a month, lab rent for three months, a good job applied for, I can relax at last. For a while anyway.
The job move is becoming essential. The stupidity at work is no longer fun, it’s becoming tiresome. A manager complained that she couldn’t understand what eggs had to do with Easter (yes, the eggs are already out) and I didn’t say anything. I could have told her the truth. I could have explained about the Pagan Beltane and the fertility rites but no, I thought it better to wait until I could come up with something more interesting.
This was New Manager, the one who was apparently a terrifying ogre. No, she’s a kitten. Obelix is terrified of her but I can’t see why. Maybe because she makes him do some actual work.
And really, can anyone fall for the line that my tomato soup is made of pureed customer? Seriously? This has gone from amusing to pitying. Nobody should look seriously shocked at that line. Even if it was particularly thick soup.
I have not yet told Boss about the job application. I’ll break the news if I get an interview. I might not even get an interview, I am getting close to pension day and they might want someone who they think will last longer. It’s also likely to be a physically demanding job and although I am fit and healthy to a level that terrifies some 18 year olds, they might take one look at my age and say ‘nah’. We shall see.
I have no plan to retire. Being home all day with nothing to do would drive me crazy. I had planned to maybe write a few novels in retirement and see if I could get one published but I already did that. Twice. Not working would drive me insane and it would be even worse for anyone living with me!
Sure, I would like more writing time. I would like to have predictable hours and predictable income so I could forget bill-chasing and plan writing time. Maybe even rebuild some savings. I would like to make enough from writing so I don’t have to do anything else but in order to do that, I have to have enough money to have no income at all for some months. In order to have enough money I have to work, which leaves no time. Catch 22.
The new job would earn enough to let me forget bills and would let me plan writing time. Fingers crossed for this one.
Or the next one. I never give up.