Busy, busy life, as Peter Thompson says. The number of my bookmarks has been slowly increasing once again. I’m getting more emails deserving replies than I’d like to. And so forth.
Also, yesterday was the eighteenth anniversary of my first full-time job’s beginning (an odd coincidence, as ye’ll see). Today it’s eighteen years since I moved to this city. 18 being one of my favourite numbers, these would be worth blogging about in themselves. But a more important thing has happened.
My boss came to tell me that by the end of the month I’m about to get the sack. He said the probability was 70%; I suppose 99% is more like it. On the other hand, he didn’t mean it as a way of complaining about me or trying to make me work harder. (In fact he looked more ill at ease than I was.)
Matter is, when they were hiring me they were doing so because even working morning and afternoon shifts they couldn’t satisfy all their orders. Two years later, we usually only work mornings, and even so often a few of us have nothing to do for the better part of the shift. Being the latest one hired, I’m understandably the first one to go.
I’m not too upset. It’s a bother all right, but I’m not scared, as I used to be. This will be the eleventh time I’ll be looking for a job and when I buckled down to it, I’ve always found one within a couple of months. In agreement with the law, I’ll still be employed for two months after actually getting the notice, and leave with three months’ wages worth added on my last payslip. Moreover, I’ve been growing generally more confident ever since the summer of ’07; I’m no longer mentally frozen in my mid-twenties.
It may even ultimately prove to be good for me. I have to admit I was getting somewhat stale – I’ve hardly learned anything new for several months. Maybe I’ll have to accept a worse job; maybe I’ll come across a better one. I may or may not stay in the printing business; I wouldn’t mind either way.
Anyway, among the things I’ve always dreaded most are routine and boredom. So far, I couldn’t complain my life was in too much danger from these, and it looks like it still isn’t.
The hard thing, indeed the crucial aspect, is this: Bha mi airson feuchainn ri gluasad a dh’Alba ann an 2012. But obviously now’s the time to make the first attempt, even were it still a comparatively shy one. And whether I actually do will be a most revealing test of my resolution – and my strength.
(This, incidentally, has another implication. Since now I shouldn’t try to be diligent about having my ‘Backlog tasks’ done in two years’ time. I should be brutal about having most of them done over with asa fucking p.)