Apr. 24th, 2010 01:43 am
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Forgot to mention in my earlier post that I handed in my application for the job of our more senior comms person who's leaving shortly. On the one hand I feel just slightly underqualified. On the other, I could totally do the job and you'd better believe some kind of massive party will be thrown on the day I no longer have to take minutes or process invoices. And certainly numerous coworkers were quietly yet enthusiastically supportive.

But I can't get my hopes up and have to remind myself (a lot) that if I don't get it, my contract only has another 3.5 months on it and if all else fails I can take a break from fulltime work before travelling in September and have something fabulous lined up for when I get back. Heck, I would've started scoping out the job market in a month or so anyway to allow for the horrific time it takes the public sector to process jobs.

You can sure tell I'm feeling totes relaxed about it all, right? *headdesk*
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Feeling very directionless. The Day of Meetings was not as bad as I anticipated, but after it was all over my motivation to do anything even remotely productive vanished into thin air. Roll on the weekend, please!
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J purchased Rock Band 2 today - possibly the last copy in Wellington, which he is by no means hugely smug about.

Wearing my vocal chords out with some NiN has certainly helped ease the stupid-induced tension I was feeling this arvo. I've hit the "oh thank God I'm only here for 6 more months, I can totally last that long if I just switch off my emotion chip" mark. Which is never a good sign. You'd think workplaces would give a toss about their staff being overstressed and undersupported, if only in the name of operational efficiency.

Went to see Jeanette Fitzsimons' valedictory this evening. It was ... good, but obviously sad. Especially when she brought up Rod Donald. I did NOT get teary in the House of Reps, no sirree.

Tomorrow my term deposit expires and I will have a crapload of money sitting in my savings. I am not stressing out from sheer responsibility-aversion at all. Nor am I in any way worried about starting sentences with "I was talking to a Wealth Advisor at the bank and ..."

Shan't be grown-up. SHAN'T I SAY.
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Hair: deep-conditioned. Face: deep-scrubbed. Nails: painted a gorgeous berry-red, furnished by the wonderful unnethe. Bag: nearly packed. Alien vs Predator: Requiem: hilarious as always.

I am *not* having a freakout, no sirree.
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So tomorrow is the first day at the New Job. I have to accept I will probably horribly embarrass myself in some way in my first week; I have to accept that it will take me a while to figure out if/what horrible office politics and personality clashes there are in the office; I have to try to learn everything I can and build up my skills as much as possible; I have to make myself indispensable and hope they can roll over my contract or expand the team when the maternity-leave staffmember returns; I have to ultimately face the fact that come August my contract expires and I have no guarantee of subsequent employment no matter how brilliant I may be or how much they may love my work.

Just a wee bit stressed out here, chaps.

J seems to be having a period of enforced working-from-home given that his work building hasn't actually reopened yet and he has no outside-hours access. Lucky bastard.

And to top everything off I'm obsessively calculating and re-calculating my savings plan for the year trying to make the same numbers work out differently.

This is clearly a time for tea.


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Boxing Day Baby

December 2010

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