It's All New

My new-second-hand-car, was finally ready to be collected on Wednesday afternoon, there were a few problems with it and thank God for my brother-in-law who is able to fix.

I'm a nervous wreck driving around these days.  I've been driving my old, gorgeous, reliable, (until it died,) car for the past eleven years and now everything is different.  Everything is back to front.  Everything is also, suspiciously quiet, what's that all about?  I keep thinking it's going to die on me but no, it's just quiet.  I now have alien gadgets like, "central locking" and "A/C".  I even have,"electric windows".  I miss my winder handles, that's the only "A/C" I have ever known and let me tell you, it's worked perfectly fine so far.  It's all a bit mind blowing, not to mention that my wipers/indicators are now on the opposite side to my old car, so most times when I want to indicate, I turn on the wipers instead.

On Friday, I spent my last day at the Manchester office, in very good company, very funny company.  It's a very long time, since I laughed so much, I actually had jaw ache from all the laughing when I left work, it was a great day.

I journeyed home on the train with Lin.  We stood on the platform in Manchester in warm sunshine, being kissed by a light breeze, fifteen minutes down the track and we were beneath a canopy of dark grey cloud, being hammered by torrential rain.  Don't you love weather?  By the time we reached our stop, the rain has been and gone, but everything was saturated and some roads had a little flooding.

It was a good day despite the soggy ending, next Friday, is my last one in this job, then it's onto something new... again.

Ryan and Sandy to the Rescue

I admit it OK?  I am well and truly wallowing today.  I am car less.  I have walked to local, over priced shops for essentials like milk for days and pulled some kind of ligament in my ankles.  (It's shameful, it's only 20-30 minutes away, depending on how fast you can walk.)  My new-second-hand-car was to be ready today but there is a problem with the brakes and so it won't be ready... yet.  I walked to the shop miles away, only to find that they only had massive cartons of milk and they were too heavy for me to carry home, (I only wanted a 500ml carton as my fridge is so ridiculous, it repels fresh produce and turns it to poison... instantly.)  And every time I set foot out of the door to walk somewhere, it chucks it down.  Incidentally, I then walked to another "local" shop, but they don't stock skimmed.  Just remind me what year it is again???

All I have in the house is soup, either tinned, fresh or frozen... and coffee.  My bathroom light pulley, after months of either staying on for eons or staying off for eons, has totally given up, which means I shower in the dark these days and my new-used-car will cost me extra money to insure, which I don't have... before payday.  Did I mention that after a couple of years of getting my finances in order, I am now almost £3k more in debt?  And breathe.

So I'm using up a days leave today, Tuesday.  It's a day off from work, and I can't do anything and so after my hour long walking expedition for milk... despite the fact that I couldn't actually buy any milk.  I now have nothing to do.  I delve into my emails, reply to my cousin Jayne, I owe her one from the weekend, bring you up to speed and then I descend into a cure-all of Ryan and Sandy while I scrutinise my finances.

Ryan and Sandy are probably better known as Ryan Gosling and Ms Sandra Bullock and so I delve into "Murder by Numbers", (a Sandy and Ryan double whopper,) followed by "Fracture" for Mr Gosling and then, that old chestnut... "While You Were Sleeping," courtesy of Ms Bullock.  It's times like this that you need old friends around you, and in the absence of friends today... I have Hollywood megastars.  See?  Always a bright side.

The Breakdown

I know what you're thinking.  She's lived with the, not-knowing if she'd have a job or not for the past twelve months, will she be able to keep a roof over her head or will she be forced to move in with any sister that would have her?  That kind of pressure can tip a person over the edge.

Well, can I bank that breakdown?  Because I honestly think I deserve a mini meltdown after surviving that and making it to the other side and into a new and permanent job.  But I'm not actually talking about that type of breakdown today, I'm talking about flying down the motorway and losing power kind of breakdown. 

So I limp to my usual Saturday morning haunt on a wing and a prayer.  Text Jan; "U up? x"  I don't want to phone too early as not sure what time dear brother-in-law finished his AA shift yesterday... could have been early hours of this morning.  She doesn't text back straight away, it is of course Jan and so it could be days before she checks her phone, plus, I need to settle my stomach and find my legs again, they felt like jelly by the time I'd got to my destination.

Thirty minutes later, I have gathered myself, had a coffee, regained the use of my legs and I'm speaking to my brother-in-law.  "I think it's the spark plugs again, losing power, terrible noise, keep thinking I'll grind to a halt, I'll take the long, slow route home but head to yours."

One small bridge on the long route home or to Jan's, is closed and the new, temporary bridge will not let me turn right after I've travelled over it.  I follow the road to the left and quickly think, which is the shortest route from here?  I go right around the roundabout and do a left up a one way street, with speed bumps, up the hill, but it's all too much and my little silver car, which has brought me so far over the last eleven years... dies.

I have smoke and fumes emanating from under the bonnet.  Six inches in front of the car, is the final frontier, aka, the last speed bump... on this road at least, but it's just too much.  I can't even get it started and even if I could, I don't think I'd make it over the speed bump.  The end of this particular road and the top of this particular hill is about ten feet away.

I receive a text.  "Just checking you OK?  If you're struggling, STOP AND PHONE US."  I phone and proclaim, "it's just died."

I'm sitting, thankfully, tucked into the edge of the road and there is room for others to pass.   Despite sitting there, alone, with hazards on, with room... I get a few filthy looks as people have to drive around me and I'm desperate to challenge them, "if you can get it to start chick, then I'll move it." 

A white-van-man squeezes past and as he does, I mouth, "sorry!"  He smiles as he drives past and pulls in.  "Do you want me to guide you to the curb?"  He's sweet and I thank him for stopping but explain that I can't get it started and my brother -in-law is on his way.  Call me old fashioned but I love that chivalry is still on life support... just.

White-van-man leaves me to fend off drivers glares, alone.  Seems like forever but sister and brother-in-law arrive, just as the traffic policeman does.  Traffic police doesn't stop and I'm not sure if he's there because of me or if it's just a happy coincidence.  My brother-in-law is in the process of reversing, (rolling) back and tucking in by about a foot into the curb.  Traffic policeman drives by.

My brother-in-law lifts the bonnet and I scrutinise his face.  Jan drives me away leaving my dead car and brother-in-law, almost at the top of that hill.  I think I've just said goodbye to my independence. I can't afford a new car, a second hand car, I can't even afford repairs, even if it's repairable, which, judging by the smoke and the smell, I'm not sure that it is.

One step forward, six steps back.

Prisoners

Bee and I went to the cinema last night to watch "Prisoners".  We don't go that often and Bee always lets me take the lead and choose the film.  I'm usually drawn towards either a bankable name, a witty script or a kick arse trailer and it's almost always a rom-com.  Still, the lure of Hugh Jackman and Jake Gyllenhaal was too great to resist.  It wasn't pretty and it wasn't funny but it was, so good. This gritty drama just reeled me in.

Performances, from the entire cast, were sterling.  There were moments when my hand automatically came up to shield my eyes, there were edge of the seat moments and parts were you were gripped with fear that the unmentionable had happened.

I wasn't wearing a watch but I can tell you that almost two and a half hours, flew by.  I feel like this film will reside under the radar come awards season, but I hope not.

Sleep Much?

There is an article in this week's Grazia magazine which really caught my eye.  It's entitled; "What Kind of Insomniac Are You?"  After a couple of months of poor sleep, (I'm being polite,) followed by the past three weeks of chronic sleep, (yes, it was that dramatic.)  So, I read the article with interest.  There are apparently three types of insomniacs, the "late night insomniac" who goes to bed with their minds racing, unable to switch off.  There is the "3am Insomniac."  This is the person who wakes around 3am every night, like clockwork, stays awake for a few hours then manages to drop off, just in time for the alarm to ring.  Lastly, we have the, "early rising insomniac" who wakes around 5am, way before your alarm and that's it... you're done.

So the good news is that there are three possibilities with a list of how to overcome each one.  The bad news is, that I'm a combo... of all three... at once.

That was until three nights ago, when I slept, then I slept again then I slept for eight hours, like a really good baby, and I feel so much better.

I still look like I haven't slept for one hundred years but I feel better.  Maybe my skin and the bags under my eyes will catch up soon?

More Waiting

So I'm off today.  It's Friday morning and I happily arrive at my usual Starbucks haunt, blissfully unaware that the interview results are being emailed out, one by one.  I'll find out today whether or not, I got the job.

One coffee later and I'm filling my car with fuel when I get a text, from my friend and colleague who also interviewed for the job.  "Have you heard from Donny? xx"

Donny is the HR bod from the place we interviewed for.

"No, I'm out.  Have you? xx" 

"I didn't get it and neither did Nathan or Poppy xx"

I commiserate and vow...

"I'll check when I get home and text you xx"

After several more texts while I detour around the supermarket, I finally arrive home, log on, no email. 

My colleague got the same email to both her work and home address and so I expect the same and failing that, my "out of office" is on my work email so surely that would be a clue?  There is nothing to my home email and my colleague badgers me to email Donny, still, I don't want to do that, he may be in the process of emailing results out, one by one, for each of the twelve candidates.

The afternoon races on and I get a running commentary, via text from my friend of who hasn't got the job as the emails get delivered.  Surely my odds are rising?  I feel ill at the very thought.

By 4pm, I still haven't heard.  No email, no phone call and I can't stand it any longer.  I spend 20 minutes compiling a "casual" email to the HR man.  "Hi Donny, no need to respond but if you're sending out the results of my interview today, please send them to this address as I'm off work today.  Have a great weekend.  Kindest regards... J"

Twenty minutes later, I get an email from Donny.  "I've literally just left the office, can you call me on my work cell?"  He hasn't provided his number.

I reply; "Hi Donny, I can call you, what's your number?"

Another twenty minutes later and I have his number and I dial.  The first couple of minutes, after he's announced he's at the gym, seems like waffle to me, and then I hone in on... "so if you're still interested, we'd like to offer you the job."

I can't quite believe it, a permanent job off the back of a redundancy situation, plus promotion. 

I text my friend, "I got it." 

I feel bad that I did get it and that my friend didn't, but either way, I can't believe it.  I have no experience in this area and I have no idea what they saw in me and why the placed me above the other candidates.  I'm so grateful for the chance.  I'm just grateful.

Hair Drama, Bob Style

So, after a couple of months of a longish bob, I knew from pretty much hour one, that a bob was not for me.  The thing is... I love bobs, I always longed for a Lois Lane/Teri Hatcher, glossy, straight and swingy bob and wanted that desperately.  Well I can't ever have that, because my hair is like wire wool on a humid day. 

So, on my last hair cut, I compromised and went for the Olivia Palermo, slightly wavy bob with a few subtle and long layers and no... that didn't work either and so then I had to wait for it to grow a little, for me to get it layered.  Does that make sense? 

Anyway, I hastily booked in just after pay day for some semblance of normality to be restored.  Louise did a sterling job, told me off, (again,) for attacking my own fringe and then sent me on my way.

A few days later and I'm based in my "home" office for the day, after eleven months of wearing my hair up, most people walk past me, I get lots of compliments, and my male manager does a double take.  Does that mean it looks OK?

It's great, not 100% but I feel like me again.  I don't think I'll ever find the perfect cut but for now, I feel swingy and bouncy and messy.... and I feel at home.