Saturday, 12 January 2013

2013: The Year I Made Like Peanut Butter, Bacon and Jam*

*I just worked

The last third of 2012 was a proper shitter.  I had finally come to the sad conclusion that my experiment with work as a private consultant and member of CJS Partnership Ltd had largely failed.  As if that wasn't enough, my strike rate with job interviews had hit an all time low, the nadir of which was failing on two occasions to be short-listed for work as a bank nurse, the most basic of all possible roles for a qualified nurse with twenty plus years experience in health care.  Just in case I thought that the dough faced shit-bags in government couldn't vomit on my eiderdown yet again I also discovered that posts extremely similar to the one I was made redundant from in 2011, within my exact specialisation, were being advertised on the NHS jobs site but I, and my former colleagues, were not eligible to apply as we were not 'at-risk' staff within the NHS.  So, being one of the 9000 unfortunates in the NHS who were binned off by Cameron and chums even before they had passed the Health & Social Care bill, we were beyond risk because we'd already been thrown off the fucking cliff.

I hate you Wheatus bongo player
It wasn't only work and money issues that were pissing in my eye at this point in my forty-first year on the planet.  In September I ordered a fairly rare book from America.  It never arrived.  The seller very kindly refunded me several weeks later and I ordered another copy from another seller.  That never arrived either.  Said second seller was very understanding and sent a replacement which finally arrived just before Christmas.  This utter debacle succeeded in elevating postal services up my shit list to just below Daveorge Camosbourne and just above the bongo player from Wheatus.

Ia Ia Cthulhu Phtagn
Fortunately Christmas 2012 was a winner.  My parents and sister came to us for two days (the first time my parents had ever, in their married lifetimes, spent Christmas away from home) and many snowballs and ports and lemonade were consumed and much entertainment was derived from watching The Avengers, John Carter and particularly my sister and Mum getting the hump with my Dad on the afternoon of Christmas Day thanks to his insistence on making The Evil Dead the afternoon matinee.  To be fair they took it all fairly well at first but I suppose evil spirit tree-rapists (or should that be rapist trees) are not the best warm up for the Strictly Christmas Special.  Fortunately lunch was delicious and Doctor Who surprised everyone by being half decent, thereby guaranteeing that the Stimpson family Christmas was a huge success, despite the sad absence of other sister and bundle of joy nephew who spent it elsewhere.  I was sad to miss his second Christmas but, on a positive note, I did manage to initiate him into the cult of Cthulhu, thereby ensuring that, when He rises, the boy will be able to regard Him in all of His majesty and know the truth of our existence (before his sanity is shattered and body morphed to serve His needs).  Unfortunately my partner was back at work on the 27th so the festive season was cut short somewhat.

So 2013 arrived with barely a whimper, as Philippa and I rarely do anything these days for New Year's Eve (as she invariably has to work it).  Things looked up slightly as I had a little bit of work to do, luckily for Phil's bank balance. I met an old colleague from many years' past and discussed possible co-working strategies (and he paid for lunch, huzzah).  Even better I got offered an interview, which I performed well at. The same day I was offered two further interviews and, later in the day, was offered not the job I'd interviewed for, but another which the interviewing manager considered a better fit for my skills and experience.  The next day, 11th January 2013, that book, ordered on September 9th and shipped on the 12th, arrived.  It only took four months.

Swings and roundabouts.  Thank you 2013.

Tome of Salvation

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