Wednesday, December 30, 2015

And That Was Christmas

I spoke to my French colleague today and she told me that it took her 3 hours door-to-door to get from her house in England to her house in France.

Well, on Christmas Eve, it took me 10 hours – 4 of those stuck between Grantham and Retford.

A joyous start to Christmas, but it was good to be back home, until my mother put on a church choir singing programme and I wished I was back on that train.  Things improved when we watched Caravan TV, which included the process for building a caravan.  Sky – 1,000 channels of shite.

Christmas Day was predictably pleasant.  I should start by thanking Mary and Moses for having sex 2,016 years ago, leading to this celebration of shopping.

I had some cracking gifts, including some new handkerchiefs and some pants.  I also got a bar of soap on a rope to keep under my bed until I move out.  Very soon hopefully.

One gift that was particularly impressive was this designer ring:

I’ve never had a ring before.  Do you think it suits me?  I’d be interested in your thoughts.

I should also mention that I am getting a tour of Westminster.  I have no idea why I have never been bought this gift before.  I do have quite some sister.

Speaking of which, I introduced her to cricket on Boxing Day.  I believe that she is now a big fan and that we are going to a 20/20 game in 2020.  Or maybe even in 2016.

We went to watch the football as a family.  I had planned on backing Hull City to win 3-0 but because the train was delayed by 4 hours, I decided that was a sign that we would win 4-0 so I backed 4-0.  We won 3-0 with a shot agonisingly close at the end of injury time to make it 4.  My heart hasn’t beat that fast since I was chased by fire-fighters as a teenager.

I was even allowed to cook the Boxing Day roast dinner.  My family were suitably impressed…the stuffing was particularly sensational.

Christmas was definitely good.

I successfully spent lots of money and ate far too much food.  Jesus would approve.

Saturday, December 12, 2015

Situation: Pending

I’m a grumpy fucker when I started writing this yesterday, but that wass mainly down to not getting to sleep until 4am the night before.  I could understand if I had gone on a caffeine binge or spent my Christmas shopping money on hookers and cocaine but no, I had a couple of glasses of wine and did my ironing.  By the way did you realise that Youporn has a 3D section?

Why it took 6 hours to get to sleep I do not know.  Fucking ridiculous.  I’ll try to calm down on the swear words for the rest of the post but I do live in Bracknell.

Last weekend when I was in Leeds, I wondered how the fuck I had ended up in the black hole of Bracknell.  Oops that’s three times I’ve used the word fuck.

In case you wondered, it isn’t the first time I have considered this, but there are so many wonderful places in the country that I could be working and living and yet I have somehow ended up in a crapper town than that I started my life in.

It also isn’t exactly as if I am wallowing in self-pity waiting for someone to discover my genius and give me an amazing job in London, Leeds, Manchester or Bridgend.  I am studying.  I am trying to change my career.  But this is one of the sources of frustration in my life.

I am stuck in Bracknell for a minimum of two more months.  Most importantly, I am awaiting my annual bonus due at the end of January.  There is no point in changing job before then.  Plus I’m in a six-month minimum contract in my house which finishes in two months.  My annual bonus will hopefully pay for some Technics and perhaps still have a little left over to contribute towards a holiday.

But then I might get redundancy in March too, although that won’t come close to the amount of money I received and subsequently wasted from redundancy at Verizon - it probably wouldn’t even pay for a storm chasing trip around America.

I’m not quite there yet in terms of being able to apply for a junior web developer job.  However, I am also not that far away.  I have a couple of web sites.  I have various others either started or in my head.  I need a portfolio.  And I need a blog.  Yes, another blog.

I do spend too much time studying and not enough coding.  I am hoping that my February detox, and week off in March will give me the time to get my portfolio to a stage where I can actually start applying for jobs.  The moment is approaching.

I was chatting to my hair stylist last week, and it struck me how admirable it was that he had a career where he made people happy.  I might make my manager and the cash managers happy, I do make my colleagues laugh when I’m not being a miserable fucker like yesterday, but I do have a fairly miserable job.  Nobody cheers when they are chased for payment.

I keep imagining being able to go into work, do something I find interesting, something I find challenging and then actually make people happy.  Deliver something that somebody really wants.  Being part of a project which changes someone’s life or business.  Nobody wants a disconnection letter.  There is minimal satisfaction in my job.  I fell into credit control and now I am climbing out of it.

I actually spent 17 years in Reading until I finally found a good hair stylist.

Anyway, until I get my bonus I will keep on plodding on and gradually creating my new future.

A future without Bracknell.