Hi - it has, as you'll notice, been absolutely fucking aaaages. This is down to two things: a lack of inspiration and a lack of interest. Anyway, today's Lulu Day, which is differend from all the other conceivable days of the year for many reasons, and if I can't contribute something to this on the 13th anniversary of Lucy's birthday since her death, I'm a bit of a loser, really.
So, what's been going on? Well, quite a bit. We're still in London, working away diligently for people close to us who we like, and people further up the chain of command that we don't. The main change at work is that we're definitely, /definitely/ on the downward slope to freedom and life post-London. We've decided that we're not renewing the lease on the Loveburrow Junction, and may even have stumbled upon a way of making work actually help us get down to Plymouth/Exter without leaving. This is obviously devious, and will take some negotiating, but it sounds promising. The bosses are keen to keep us because we have expertise (and are used to getting shafted to an extent that our replacements may not be), and are keen to renegotiate contracts/packages etc in line with a new 'three days in London/two days off' weekly structure. I find this whole idea absolutely revolutionary, because if I don't have to do five days, I could write for the other two, seeing as the pay cut that I'd negotiate would only amount to the extra money I only needed because I lived in London the the fucking first place. Therefore, they're effectively taking the London bonus off and talking about giving us two days a week off /as well/. I damn-near fell off my fucking chair. This is an answer to all of our perceived problems. It would mean that we could effectively retain a decent wage, still saving and renting for a year to see how it panned out, or buy somewhere. It would mean that if we bought a wreck for pence, we'd have up to /four/ days in any normal week on which to work on it, or learn the skills we'd need to work on it. It would mean that we could have a dog. It would mean that The Lady could do her crafting work or run a market stall, and I could make cheese, beer and bread, and learn to surf, or finish learning to drive. I wouldn't necessarily need a car, but I could buy one and would have the time to learn how to restore it. It is, potentially, the best thing to happen to us in two-and-a-smidge years. Hence the long paragraph.
More work news: the rest of our bonuses are on their way, which means that we have the thick end of the planned deposit amount. IT IS ALL COMING ROUND OUR WAY. Isn't it oddly fitting that I bring you this news on Lulu Day 13? Things are looking up. I'll be cracking a grin next.
Other things that are happening include my driving test looming like that truck in Duel. After approximately 132 years of lessons, the day finally approacheth. Am I ready? Maybe? Will I die during the test? No. Will I be surprised if I pass? Yes. Will it be a massive deal if I have to continue to pay a nice man with a moustache £50 a week to continue this ridiculous exercise? Only financially. I am about as keen on driving on a regular basis as I am on making a four-figure investment in teeth-whitening. It is something I could do, but not something that interests me. I will, however, need to be able to drive when we've got out of here, so I am continuing while I (theoretically) have spare cash to pay for it. Do I resent it in any case? Yes.
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