It's all been very very busy and I've neglected you dreadfully. But
hey, never mind, I'm here now :)
Soooo, lots been happening. I hope you're sitting comfortably.
Well, my li'l ray of sunshine is still my li'l ray of sunshine - and I
have no desire to be sitting in the shade, so that's all good!
Still living in my little house in the woods, but not for much
longer..... I'm moving! Yup, I've handed in my notice for my job,
handed in my notice on the house, got myself a new job and off I go!
Me, the kitten and the fish are relocating!
But oh my goodness gracious me, how scared am I right now....
Funny thing is, there's nothing in the world I'd rather be doing - I
miss my little ray of sunshine terribly, hate my house, and hate my
job even more. And don't get me wrong, I fully intend to go, and it'll
all work out just fine (or at least I'll know if it will in the first
three or four months, anyway).
But I feel like a very small person relying on too many things
'falling into place' in a very precise and exact way. And I can't
control a single one of them.
I can't control the fact that my new job requires copies of paperwork
that I don't have (yet, but I've sent off for most of it); I can't
control the fact that my car has been in and out of the garage more
times than Daisy Duke lately; I'm not in full control of my overdraft
right now (yes, I know, don't start); I can't control whether my
references will come back perfect from my old (and current) employers.
And I don't know whether my gnashers are going to have any more stage-
stealing emergencies - seriously, I'm worried the dentists are
starting to think I have an unhealthy obsession with antibiotics,
drills and anaesthetic. I worry about whether my beautuful babe of a
kitten is going to settle in his new home - not be scared (or not
scared enough) of big nasty cars, hoping that he and his new playmate
don't rip each other to shreds on sight, and that the sedatives I've
got for him will help me get him (and, as a direct result, me) there
in one piece. Whether I can pack everything in time, well enough, and
if I have enough boxes (I don't have any yet). Whether my fishes will
all make it, despite my best-laid transport plans, and whether living
outside in a new pond might be too much for them. Whether I'll
actually be able to meet the expectations for my new job - I can do
what it says on the tin, and do it well, but what if they want wonder-
woman to come swooping down from the clouds in a show of spandex and
stars (I don't do spandex, and I don't like heights)?
The only thing I'm not worrying about is rainy days happening along
with my ray of sunshine. And that makes me smile, at least.
All of these other nail-nibbling, sleep-stealing, hair-twirling, pen-
chewing things are making squidgey feel a little uncomfortable right
I've done almost all of these things before, though - and more - but
never all at the same time, and never with so much at stake.
That said, I've done everything I can to meet all of these potentials
- in good time, in a sensible way and an organised fashion.
I've sent off for my qualification confirmations - I've advised my new
employer that I have to get new ones and why. Ok, there's a minor
glitch with one of them I suspect (I don't think I finished the whole
course), but they advertised for a graduate and I didn't even go to
college, ffs - they still offered me the job without that so they
can't be that bothered. The company doing the confirmation has charged
me the full amount for the search, which means they've found something
at least. My car has had it's problems fixed - at a much cheaper price
than expected - and is due for it's test on Monday. Which means that
pass or fail, it should see me through once any work has been done if
it needs it - I have a mechanic who gets parts at trade prices and
works for cider. I've given glowing written references to my new
employer, and have spoken to both my current and old employers who
would be delighted to give me a glowing review.
My gnashers, whilst not quite fixed, no longer have me squealing in
pain, awake all night, sick and ill, like they did a few weeks ago.
The remaining problem can be sorted easily enough once I've moved, or
even before if I get desperate.
I've already started kitty on low-dose sedatives, have purchased a
spray pheromone to keep him calm, spoken to the vet about the best way
to move him, and arranged to move him in the dark to keep him calm.
I've made sure that both he and his new playmate are fully insured,
that the insurance will be valid for use within a few days of
arriving, and that they're already becoming 'socialised' with
exchanging jumpers etc that they've both been lying on.
Boxes aren't a problem - I have a warehouse full of them. Everything
can go in bin liners if it has to - it's not like it's going halfway
around the world with a removals company who employ rugby teams as
handlers. It's going in the back of a big van, with me driving it, and
it'll be there by teatime on the same day I take it. I've packed my
stuff and houses of more than just my stuff, more times than I can
count, and I've been known to do it in two days. All by myself.
My big bills for the month have gone out, and technically everything
should be fine. I won't run out, at least not this month, and I will
have the equivalent of an extra two weeks pay from my old job a month
after I leave.
I've googled to eternity and back, spoken to my resident fish expert,
and have a firm plan of action for the fishes. It's very simple, and
should be foolproof (no witty comments please). I also need to
remember that they are goldfish, not Japanese koi, and that there are
only three of them, not three hundred.
And as for my new job, I passed the interview with flying colours -
they threw the most rubbish at me they could manage and I came through
it all without any stuck to me.
And I get to wake up every day with the scrummiest peep on the planet.
With both kittens. Growing our own veg. Going to all the gigs.
Shopping, eating, sleeping (and everything else-ing, ahem) together. I
would like however to point out at this stage that we are not planning
to be joined Siamese-style!!
Life simply could not be further from the dungheap, and I know it, too.
But jfc, I really need to get my best brave pants out, and wear them
with pride. And tights. And a cape. In Lycra (not spandex).
Wish me luck, bloggy-baby!!!