i woke up on Tuesday morning feeling like i'd been hit by a truck. actually, saying "morning" is a lie - neither Louise or i were moving before 12:30PM. we were both feeling sick - i was coughing and sniffling, her with a developing sore throat, and shared a look across the room which seemed to say "well, fuck." my phone had rung at 9:15AM - a pimp from my favoure agency calling to get some details from me. it rung again at around 4PM while we fought our way to Sainsburys through the cold and the wind to pick up a couple of backpacks of groceries. neither of us were in any mood to go, but a lack of staples meant we were relying on takeaway so it had to be done.
"There's a job out near Heathrow. Fill in for someone on Compassionate Leave. There's some laptops to be sorted out and a problem with their Anti-Virus. I think I can get you £160/day. Can you be out there at 9:30 tomorrow morning?"
um... yeah. sure. why not. job's a job and i need the cash.
"Great! I'll get your CV over to them and get back to you soon!"
no worries.
on the way back to base-camp an hour later it rang again - checking i was still good, the cash was ok, that i had an umbrella company set up already. while we unpacked he rang to say that i was in for the next 2-3 days and he'd need details for payroll. while i was stowing my backpack under the bed he called to give me directions, contact names, the sort of things you need to know before you start a new job. an email with everything included is promised, and suddenly i had a job, if only for a couple of days.
Wednesday morning was a complete shambles. i know the commute is going to take a while - guesstimation is around an hour and a half, so i'm at the tube station by 7:45AM. 9:30AM rolled around just as i was finding the right bus to take out of Heathrow Terminals 1,2&3. by 10AM i'm in front of the wrong building and on the phone trying to get directions while i walk up and down the wrong street. at 10:30AM i finally stagger in the right door looking haggard, feeling completely unprofessional, desperately trying to salvage things. the manager's a dear and takes pity on me and i'm more grateful than polite words can express for the coffee that appears in front of me while i start interrogating her for intel on what i need to be doing.
my day's filled with coffee and technical issues while i start to assess their systems. you've got computers riddled with viruses because people are installing software of questional providence. "Yes, we know." what's your corporate policy on these things? some of this stuff is kinda illegal. and leaves you open to liability. "We don't actually have one." right. would you like one? "Yes please!!" i get a lot of stuff sorted and make my leave, with a plan of attack for the next day. i find the bus back to Heathrow and while i stand there watching the planes take off i switch from Cake to Death Cab For Cutie because i figure that if i'm going to be depressed i'll do it propperly. it takes me nearly 2 hours to get to base-camp, by which time i've read a LOT of my book. my trip involves an hour on the Piccadilly Line, changing at Leicester Square, then half an hour or so back to Oval
9AM this morning i've had a smooth run in. i'd stuck Andy McKee on my PSD while i was on the platform at Oval Station for its calming joy and i'm feeling pretty damn good when i'm about to walk in the door to the office and my phone rings:
"Tom here. Where are you at? At the bus?"
nah mate - i'm right out the front door. much easier to get in on time now i know where the hell i'm going. this place isn't exactly on my A-Z...
"Fantastic! Well done! I just spoke to Joanna and it sounds like she was well impressed. They were going to get a junior in for the next two weeks because he'd be cheaper, but she sounds really keen to keep you on for another fortnight. I know you're not keen on the commute, but what would it take to get you to stick around?"
damn... well, no, the commute sucks bollocks but they're nice here and there's free coffee. the cash is pretty dire though... i guess i'd take £180/day for it, but no less. i've got another possibility for next week which is closer to home but the cash is crap. it's a fallback at least...
"I think I can talk her into that. I'll try to get you more of course, but I'll be in touch."
legend. let me know.
2 hours later i'm onto my 4th coffee, my phone beeps its SMS tone and i've got a new contract. i let the manager know that it's all done and dusted and she's so happy that another coffee shows up in short order. i've got my work cut out for me - i've bitten off more than i think they expected i would but at least i'm going to have a bit of fun with this job. it's got the potential to hike my skills in a few things, as well as paying enough cash to make my life MUCH easier in the next few months. at Heathrow on the way back i spend £47 on a Zone 1-6 Travelcard - all the public transport i can eat for a week. with a little certainty it's well worth it. sitting on the tube my phone rings not once but twice with pimps on the line with jobs starting Monday, sounding disappointed that i'm suddenly unavailable. why it all had to come at once, and not spread itself out nicely the way it should is beyond me - punishment for the i'll get a job - no problems! arrogance i had when i left the homeland, i suppose. still, it seems that i'm suddenly popular and i'll have to find a way to migrate that over to when i'm next on the market.
as i've said a few times, Louise has been putting together plans to go and do Egypt. the framework is based around a 15-day tour she's found that covers most of the goddamn country from the looks of things, from felluca sailing down the nile to snorkling in the Red Sea, from Cairo to Aswan via Abu Simbel, from the Pyramids of Giza at sunset to hot air ballooning over the Valley of Kings at dawn. she was looking at doing it around the end of the month in order to beat the Easter Holidays. that's 3 weeks from now. meanwhile, i've wound up with a contract for 2 weeks, and with the ink on that now dry we've booked it for the weekend after i finish (convenient, since the flights for the original weekend would have cost 4 times as much). i'm stoked - Egypt was never a huge thing on my agenda, but she sold me on it when she showed me the trip she had planned, and in the last week or so it's become something of a lynchpin in my projections. even if i was still basing my plans around going back to the land Downunder in a couple of months, i was still going along for the ride to Egypt. now it's booked and paid for and the work i've got for the next two weeks will pay not just for the trip, but 2 months of rent and expenses in London.
once more i feel like i have something to look forward to, and it's a definite, not a pipe-dream. i've no room for hope or wishful thinking - see where that got me? i'm still bruised from the last thing i ivested hope in and i've no taste for it any more. a little certainty puts a smile on my face, even if it involves the certainty of 3 or more hours on public transport every working day for 2 weeks, and once that's done i've the wilderness and adventure of the ruins of one of the world's oldest civilisations to look forward to - the details can be found here:
http://www.thegobus.com/Group-
i can't shake the feeling that in missing out on what at least i thought i wanted i'm settling for the first best thing to show up, but what the fuck? fuck hope and wishful thinking. fuck home and comfort. i was finally forced to Give Up on the one thing i couldn't bring myself to and the universe seems to have finally decided that i have found humility enough to accept what it thinks i need.
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