YAY! We finally have broadband at home. Such a relief after three months of feeling totally unconnected - whatever did we used to do before the internet, I wonder?
I think it's time for a complete redesign before posting too much further. Shall have to entice my code monkey to the PC by cunning distribution of figs, tea and ginger biscuits. There is news aplenty to be disseminated. For example, our chimneys (and all our other bits) were horribly jiggled the other day by an earthquake that measured 5.2 on the Richter scale; a local church group is trying to build a homeless shelter at the end of our road (yes, we are being somewhat NIMBY about it, I'm afraid, but we live in a cul-de-sac and I can't honestly see how this venue is suitable for the large scale project they are planning) and in July, I shall be in a play. On a real stage, in a real theatre that people pay money to enter, in a part with actual words. Really not quite sure what made me go along to the audition in the first place, or why the directors chose me for a character from Manchester in her mid-40's (probably best not to ask) but should be good fun, if hard work to keep up the accent for a sustained period of time, not to mention the eight weeks of rehearsals during May and June. Perhaps I had better be Method about it and insist on behaving and speaking as though I were Vera Duckworth or similar from now until the end of performances.
Unfortunately, the play itself doesn't strike me as particularly funny, even though it's supposed to be a comedy, so perhaps I'd be better off taking lessons in how to flog dead horses. Shall have to spend some time watching Lenny Henry's Premier Inn commercials.
§ ¶Still phoneless
Poop. Have had so much news over last few weeks (lovely time in Lanzarote, enjoying fantastic new house, Rugby much better than tatty reputation would imply, my job not too bad after ropey start, Will's job going well too) but have been unable to post it.
Am banned from blogging at work (wouldn't want to or have time anyway) and after well over a month we still have no phone line and hence internet connection at home. BT are HOPELESS. Allegedly it will be done by this time next week, but I'm not holding my breath. One of their poor engineers just spent an hour up the pole outside, only to be told eventually by head office that a new part for the main connectors was required and has been on order for ages.
So in the meantime, the only internet access we have at home is gained nefariously, by piggybacking on someone else's unsecure wireless network, and I feel too inihibited to use that much. But anyhoo; we are fine, house is brilliant, if a little chilly, so come visit soon, y'all. The delights of Rugby are waiting for you. [Birthplace of Officer Crabtree ('good moaning') from 'Allo 'Allo - how can you resist?]
Frick, frickety, fricking fricky frick! The two things I do not want to experience on my first day in a new job:
1. A two and a half hour meeting to go through a four page, detailed breakdown of all my targets and development points for the next six months, heavily front-loaded towards the first two months when I will actually need time, space and understanding to find my feet
2. Being told off
Oh, joyful January the 2nd of new starts, today I got both. Who gets 'told off' at work these days, for Chrissakes? I felt like I was back at my shitty Saturday retail job when I had failed to face up the stupid overpriced nicknacks correctly. Time will tell, of course; things could easily pick up, but I do currently feel slightly sour about the new role, to say the least. Shame the woman on maternity leave for the other job came back; it wasn't totally wonderful and fulfilling, but in the nine months I did it I never felt quite as crappy about the whole thing as I do today. Ho hum.
In better news, work on the new house is going well and we hope to move in on Jan 20th. And to escape the Siberian front that is currently sweeping the country and my workplace, we are going on holiday for a week first, to the Canary Islands where there is sun, tapas and not a hint of the words 'deliverables', 'SMART targets' or 'monthly report'. Margarita, manana, happy new year amigos.
And relaaaaxxx. It's Christmas Eve eve; no more work until January 2nd, the tree is up, pies of mince (homemade mincemeat and all! I had a very homely day one Sunday back in October and made pudding and cake too) are made, festive foodstuffs are being delivered tomorrow to avoid the hell that is supermarkets at Christmas (we went to Tesco at 8am on Saturday to 'avoid the rush'; all we managed to avoid was two hours extra sleep we could comfortably have had because the place was heaving already) and the first piece of mail to our new house was very charmingly a Christmas card (thanks, Mike and Ciara).
All very satisfactory, although I do feel somewhat akin to a frozen hand that is starting to thaw out, when it is almost more painful than whilst still frozen. Work is The Suck, and no mistake.
We're not moving in to the new house until after new year, so you can still catch us on the old phone number for now - too much of a rush otherwise and there are bits and bobs that need doing before we move in. It's an odd place, but there's just something about being inside it that feels great. Upstairs has a huge, bright hallway that is absolutely my favourite spot and I think I shall take up residence there - it's actually big enough for a bed if required.
In case I'm not back again before Christmas, hope y'all have a good one and may the wind from your sprouts never be diminished xxx
Holy crap. Last week I interviewed for, was offered and accepted a job at the same place I currently work, same role but managing qualifications I am, let's say, somewhat less than fascinated by. Then today, Will and I bought a house in Rugby. Curious times.