Boxing Day Baby

Long time no post!

Life continues apace. 10 sleeps till Christmas. Fired off a job app for a job which would be ridiculous levels of squee. 11 sleeps till I'm 27 which sounds rather grown-up, but then I supposed 26 sounded pretty damn grown-up last year.

As of tomorrow (technically today but that's what I get for staying up late) Mr J and I will have been going out for four. Whole. Years.

It's a bit terrifying TBH.

Fortunately we are still as horridly nauseating as ever, especially in public.

I am reaching unhealthy levels of unmotivation with work at the moment, specifically with all things computer-related. It may happen that at some point next week I will simply scream "YOU DO NOT ACTUALLY NEED EMAIL TO LIVE" at a coworker.

Also I hate packing.

So I've been on a fixed-term contract this year.

And now we're at the "okay, X isn't coming back, let's talk contract renewal!" stage.

But prior to this news, I was applying for other jobs. (Note to self: and that was totally the correct thing to do because you needed job security.)

And I got shortlisted and interviewed for one of those on Wednesday. And it would be a pay raise, and a new environment, and generally all-round shiny.

But. Of course our HR manager would be going away next week, thus necessitating we move quickly on deciding about my contract extension; and of course the potential-new-employers would all also be going away this week, meaning I couldn't hear from them first.

Which all meant wonderfully uncomfortable conversations at current-work about how I couldn't actually be signing anything immediately since I might be getting another offer. (Note to self: and that was ALSO the correct thing to do and they can't fault you for looking so STOP IT, MISSY.)

My down-brain of course now expects that I won't get the new job and have thus Horribly Damaged my relationship with my manager, who is not a person to fuck off in our city and our industry, for no good reason.

Thanks, brain.

(syn_abounds and poor_toms_acold of course reminded me that Murphy's Law could also kick in positively, in that new workplace = full of people wearing jeans AND I just kitted out my Twee Secretarial Wardrobe which would be so out of place. *clings to hope*)

So now I just have to wait, and remind myself nigh-constantly that whatever happens I have job security and my savings are on track etc. etc. I DON'T DO WAITING.

Signs J knows me well: our evening's entertainment is Jurassic Park, possibly followed by Jurassic Park 2. Pretty much exactly what I need on a horribly rainy cold day while half-asleep on the sofa in the late stages of a headcold.

Job interview today, for the senior position in my current team. As per usual, no idea how well it went - and my usual job interview anxiety only gets complicated by the interviewers being people who already know me and who I already work with.

Still, I think I did okay on the practical component, and especially so given my blunt acceptance that I'm not as experienced as the job brief would like.

I'm kind of getting a vibe from my coworkers that they definitely *want* me to get the role, and they *want* me to do well in the interview process. But for my mental stability I am simply refusing to look into it too deeply because I'll frankly be shattered if I don't get the job anyway.

For now, there is wrestling and beer. And that Is Good.

Operation: Get Pissed is henceforth declared a success. With very careful typing.

Cake = successs! Photos still forthcoming until I can actually operate a computer without full slow concentration.

You are all awesome.

All I'm saying is y'all better like chocolate buttercream.



... Oh, who the hell am I kidding?

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*

Work was shite, largely due to the kind of wankjargon that would get you thrown out of The Office's writers' lounge for being too wankjargony. Protip: if you've already used the word "shared" twice in a very short sentence, you probably don't have to crowbar "united" in there too for emphasis.

And one of my better-fitting bras suffered critical damage in the form of the underwire on one side leaping, chestburster-like, through the seam and towards my neck, carving a lovely dark red line on my cleavage.

And I don't have time to do the cogwork embroidery I was planning so I've had to come up with an alternate wrought-iron design which will take less time. But I am not a girl who enjoys designing arty things that can't be quantified into cross-stitch.

And I've been getting fuckall sleep and thus was in no mindset to write that damn job application I have to do. It's a lovely vicious cycle, in that I will doubtless wake up multiple times tonight panicking that I have missed the deadline (and am thus condemned to an eternity of shared shared united collaborative shared jargonwank) which will mean I'm too tired to do it tomorrow etc. etc.

Bugger this, I'm going to bed.