take one woman with low self esteem, but quite good hair
add one moronic illness
stir in some medication which causes hair to fall out
mix it all up and this is what you get...
Thursday, October 12, 2006
- I won't miss driving two hundred miles per week.
- I won't miss that bit of suicide lane leading to the motorway
- I won't miss being on call 24 hours per day, 7 days per week, 52 weeks per year
- I won't miss visiting filthy, smelly paper mills in safety boots and high-vis jacket
- I won't miss being "mooed" at by factory operatives because they don't seem to have seen a woman in that context before
- I won't miss this dismal office, in this dismal business park, just too far away from the dismal town to be able to walk there and back at lunchtime
- I won't miss those extra two and a half hours of work per week
Yes, I will miss the people, the banter, the camaraderie. I will also miss the fact that I am respected for what I do and I am trusted to do what is required.
But on balance, in terms of the lifestyle to which I aspire, this new job will simply suit me better.
- I will be able to walk to work.
- I will be on a rota for on-call duties
- I will be properly recompensed when I'm on call
- I will work in an office in the centre of town.
- I will be able to vary my working hours to suit, as long as I adhere to the core hours
- I will get staff discount at [insert major UK retailer]
- I will get an increased salary on top of the savings made on travel costs
I am not a career woman. Not any more. I am under no illusions - I'm fairly confident that the job itself will be no less soul-destroying than any other job of its kind. If I must work for an employer (for the moment, I must), then I will limit the inconveniences as far as possible. Which is why I have chosen to accept the new job.
Not there yet. But getting closer.