Daily Archives: September 14, 2011

Where, oh where, is my sense of proportion?

Item – So. Currently. Mother is having surgery in less than a week. Father is having surgery in less than a month. I am having surgery in just over two months. *Hyperventilates*

Item – My annual review at work is on the same day my mother is having surgery. Bugger and damn.

Item – I have been off sick so amazingly often this year, that any normal employer would have fired me. From a cannon. Luckily, Higher Ed. in Britain is Not Normal, but this jolly state of affairs will not survive the increasing removal of government support long.

Item – A possibility of a job at another place, promotion, better pay, came up, alas too late for me to complete the application process (my inside source was not on the ball. Eh). But it did put me in a ferment. I am bored of my job. Not all of it, admittedly. I still like the geeky back-office bits. I’m just sick of dealing with people, fetching and carrying, and not being allowed to use my own initiative (my boss, who I actually quite like, is very against initiative, and very pro checking every tiny detail of everything with her. This Does Not Suit My Temperament). On the other hand, my place of employment is miraculously understanding about the sick-leave, I like most of my colleagues, and I have earnt good maternity leave as well (Bwahahahahahahaha! HAH!).

Item – And anyway, I’m not sure I want to carry on working for people. I have savings. I could go freelance.

Item – The savings will help pay for either a) a mortgage, b) IVF if it comes to that, c) being a stay-at-home parent, or d) going freelance. They will not cover all of the above, or more than one of the above. I am so fucking screwed.

Item – And there’s the sex thing. OK, so you may not care particularly, but the vision of The Rest Of My Life sans Sex makes me feel like chucking myself off a bridge, so it’s very much a biggy for me.

Item – I need to go and climb another mountain. Clearly it’s the only thing that stops me fretting myself into a pretzel while awaiting the measured tread of my period, armed to the teeth, laughing mercilessly as she draws ever closer.


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