Echo de menos...

Annie Rhiannon wrote a brilliant post a while back where she talked about happiness writing in white...

This struck a chord with me at the time, and I think is certainly part of the reason I haven't blogged, well, pretty much at all since I've been over here...

But I also think, for me, change writes in white too... Especially when the changes are pretty big and pretty scary. The kind of change that is moving to another country, having to learn to speak and work in a new language, knowing nobody there and so not only having to make friends*, but having to make these friends in said new language.

And now, at the end, for some reason I'm surprised that I have not just managed to achieve all of the above** but have actually enjoyed doing it!

But now I'm going home and I'm already in anticipation of my imminent departure started thinking about what I'm going to miss...

I'm going to miss being in the heart of the city. I'm really going to miss all of my friends. I'm going to miss that going out until 5 or 6 in the morning at the weekend is normal. I'm going to miss leaving work early on a Friday. I'm going to miss the 3 course lunches that start at 2.3opm and last at least an hour and a half. I'm going to miss that beer is considered to be a soft drink. I'm sure as hell going to miss the daily cleaning in my apartment. I'm not going to miss the work I've been doing, but hey, you can't have everything...

I have one week left. I'm going to make the most of it.

*If I wanted to have any kind of social life...
** See this earlier post about my expectations

...aside from that

I'm really quite enjoying myself here and settling in well... More later...

Over eager

Well I'm here, and I'm surviving and have finally managed to get the internet up and running in my apartment!

I've been insisting religiously that everyone I work with talk to me only in Espanol which has been moderately successful in helping me to learn (in the absence of any lessons or any prior knowledge apart from the three weeks of emergency teaching I had before I left), but I today realised that the bloke that I thought was incoherent apparently only speaks Portugese and solo un poco de Spanish, speaks English really quite well...

Sigh... may have to relax my tactic a little bit!

Now I get my life back!

It's all over...

I didn't think it could be done, but it was all OK in the end (which, even though you never believe it, always happens)...

But I'm sick of the 15 hour day, 7 day weeks, and I'm so tired that I can't even begin to describe it, so I'm extremely glad it's all over... But now that's all over I have a new challenge...

Well a couple actually:

1. I'm moving to a foreign country to live and work for six months, leaving in, oooh, about three weeks*
2. I've met a lovely, lovely man**

Bollocks!!

*Not much time to pack then***
**Why, oh why does one of them turn up when you're really, really not looking - please men, explain!
***I'm a girl - three weeks is an extremely short time to pack for six months!

Why bosses are like children...

Having just got back from the forefront of high finance (yes I do know it's Sunday) I thought I'd write a quick post about Idiot Bosses.*

The majority of Idiot Bosses behave like children. Typical behavior of the Idiot Boss in his home environment tends to be in the form of the following:

Questions like:

• "Where is the information I forgot to demand yesterday?"
• "Why didn't you act on the idea I had in my head before I tried to sort it out myself?"
• "Why did you leave the office at midnight without sorting out the issues above?
  

My interpretation of this behavior goes like this:

• "Where is the toy I've just seen on TV, I want, I want, I want!"
  
• "Mummy, I just poohed my pants!"
• "Mummy, I just wet the bed!"

So it's appropriate to respond with the following:

• "You can have the information for Christmas, but only if you're a very good boy."
• "You've made a mess have you? Let me sort it out for you."
• "Mummy wants her P45 please."

*I feel qualified to advise because I've had several of them.

Yesterday was bad...

...today was good!

After my trauma yesterday of going back to work*, everything is much better today, and I'm getting back into my stride. So you can expect many more lighthearted posts... At least until the next time it all goes horribly wrong.


*which means I'm going to have to work like a bastard demon from hell for at least the next couple of months...**
**This time last year I started working 12-16 hour days for ooh, about 2 1/2 months... Though I did manage to have 5 days off in about 75 so I'm not sure why I'm complaining. I'm sure these are generous conditions for a workhouse!

A bit of navel gazing...

I used to self harm.

It started when I was doing my degree. My mum hadn't quite achieved the heights of alcoholism she would later reach, I was living at home and thought if I could be the best daughter ever that everything would be OK. When the pressure got that little bit too much I got a pair of scissors and, well, the back of my hand was the best target I had.

Later I managed to move out, got my own place, but that was worse. I couldn't keep an eye on my mum or make sure my dad was OK and I was completely exhausted from trying to be the best daughter ever and get my degree and to top it all off I had the worst neighbour in the world.*

So I started on my arm, with a piece of sharp glass. It's amazing how much better I felt as the blood flowed, like I had control over that small piece of my world.

The worst was when I ended up cutting so deep into my upper arm that it wouldn't stop bleeding. I patched myself up, tissues and tape, and went into work. I didn't realise as I was giving a presentation that the blood had soaked through my shirt and was running down my arm. I ended up in casualty having stitches, telling my friends and the doctors that my aunt's cat had scratched me, and telling my parents that my friend's cat had scratched me. That's my worst scar.

I decided to stop at my grandfather's funeral.

This was just after I told them to fuck off and leave me alone, that I was going to move as far away as I possibly could. Which I did.

My new life, my new resolution.

It's pretty much worked since then. I've only harmed twice since in the nine years I've been down here which is an average I can live with. I'm hoping never to do it again.

*More on my evil neighbour later...