I am sitting in the bar of a train station in a town called Preston waiting for my connecting train back to London – which is at 5:49 so there's a bit of a wait (half an hour). I had a meeting in accrington – in lancashire/Manchester.
I am officially a BDE (yes, that IS short for business development executive) and have made it through my first week and onto my second, which started with me coming to Manchester today. Last week I went to a few places just outside of London (Peterborough and Hemel Hempstead) but the big trip was my excursion to York which really is as beautiful as everyone says it is. Although one first feels a bit glam commuting all over the place, it really is a novelty thing… when a 5ton irish woman starts breastfeeding her screaming child on the train opposite you or the old man next to you starts snoring (which is after he has had the same self-adoring conversation with about 5 people on his mobile) reality soon hits home – hard. (Both of which happened at the same time on the same train).
Just jumped on the train now – now I have a nice long trip to Euston station and then an hour trip back home (with my laptop – from work – and a few other heavy things!).
I am really enjoying work though. Before last Monday I was doing telemarketing and shadowing on meetings. The telemarketing was awful, but the people I was doing it with were awesome, plus it's a standard thing that all new people must do a month on the phones. That side of the office (direct news) is really cool because the press cuttings people work there and always have music playing, and the direct news team also have a reputation for being big drinkers (the newsmanager team has the exact opposite reputation) so there's no lack of post-work drinking buddies.
I have since moved into newsmanager's office and it is so quiet! The radio is on but it's more 702-type stuff (it's a regional station so you occasionally get a batty old man who calls in and curses the arabs, and then of course you must have a batty old arab who calls in and threatens a jihad, all while the host is trying to cut them off before the station gets sued!).
In my office there are 10 of us, Rod our Director also sits in the room and he's only 35 so he joins in the banter with the rest of us. The two other bde's are James and Carlo. James is a northerner from burnley – such a northern accent!!! – 29 and still living the dream (he's in a band and is taking a day off next week because one of his bands is playing in a transvestite club at 1am), however he has a wicked english sense of humour, enjoys more than a few drinks and owns an apartment in Spain (I am trying to get keys for your first visit). Carlo is an Italian that was born in Belgium and lived in England (our office is still trying to fathom how that makes him Italian). He enjoys a quiet beer on Sundays but no more, and is obsessed with travelling and photography (and very good at it too!) and he can handle his own when it comes to the battle of wits (it's a constant battle to dazzle the others with your wit and intelligence, and it never ever stops).
Because our office is so quiet we try and arrange for our office days to be with all 3 of us there so at least you can have a bit of a laugh and some company during the day.
Enough about work, although it really has become all I do…
Sacha and I are sharing a room in the house in east acton, and while our housemates are quite cool, in other circumstances I would look down and keep walking, fast. But the house itself is a bit of a dump and apparently we are paying quite a lot for what we have, but I don't really want to move at this point because I don't know where I want to move to and I don't have time to look around, first want to settle in to my job before I uproot myself! I have also learnt how to get around the area and don't feel like learning that all again just yet!
We have been blessed (when the weather is good I really do find my faith) with some really nice weather over the past 2 weeks and so weekends are spent in the garden chilling and having a few drinks and a braai, or walking around different areas. I really enjoy wandering through the different areas and sightseeing, especially as it is spring and all the trees are blooming, or blossoming, whatever it is that a tree does in spring. Although while I type this it's raining outside!
Mom, you will be impressed, I went shopping for work shoes (here the heels on shoes only last a couple of weeks – 2 – before they need to be replaced) and bought myself 2 pairs of sensible smart flat work shoes. In my job there is no room for fashionable footwear especially when walking with a male, not only are their legs longer but they also feel the need to race towards anything and walk up and down the escalators (if that isn't an insult to technology I don't know what is!). A benefit of my job is that I do get to be outside and running around during the day, and if that's added to the 10min uphill walk home from the station which is done at least once, often twice (on weekends 3-4 times) per day, the Heathrow injection is unable to hit me! I also as a rule don't eat fast food during the week, which is easy when I'm in the office because we have a canteen that can make some really good stuff and it's healthy!
One thing I have been learning to adapt to is the complete lack of personal space, especially on the tubes in the mornings! However, through the careful study of other commuters and learning-by-doing, I have finally taken myself to the next level of the induction phase – I can read my paper on the tube with one hand holding on to a rail above me and the other jammed at my side, I no longer look up when we stop at stations nor do I stumble when I stop (and when others do, I smile that smile that only the weather-beaten rat-racer can whilst thinking 'in time my son').
When I stride into work, confident and quite possibly arrogant – thanks to the tourist that stops to ask you for directions and thinks they have struck gold until they hear your accent, there is an Italian family that is probably still looking for the Tate Modern in Putney (very very far apart) due to my inability to give away foreign status and pull out the mini-map I carry with me at all times lest I be spotted! – only to have the pedestal crumble beneath you when you see your reflection in the lift mirror on the way up from lunch and notice that you have black smudges on your face which could only have gotten there by the newspaper ink from the morning commute. Yes even heroes have to learn the odd lesson!
I have started to settle in, and no longer have a complete problem waking up for work in the mornings, and I usually meet up with Sam once or twice during the week when she is working in town for a drink where our paths home cross. Normally I get home at about 7 if I go straight home from work, and I have really learnt to appreciate weekends! I think that I would move to Wimbledon at this point because all my mates stay there and east acton really is on the other side of the world from there so unless I get intercepted on my way home (like sam did to me last fri) I seldom head out on a Friday because going home and then out is just not worth the hassle!
2 weeks ago I got a call from a recruitment agent about a job I applied for when I first got here, a financial consultant for Navigant the American consulting company, and it was a job I REALLY REALLY wanted, however I was told that I would hear back about 3 days after my interview (after hassling the recruitment agent) and instead it was a month and a half. They wanted me to come in for a final interview and they had narrowed it down to 3 and were taking 2. I said I wasn't interested and I had a job for now. My reasoning is that I have just started at ***** and have already learnt so so much and I think it would be silly to jeopardise this opportunity, especially before the official ***** training happens! If in a year's time I decide I still want to do that then I will take it further (and I do see myself wanting to go into finance in the future). At this point I am being forced into uncomfortable situations and learning how too deal with all types of people and I think confidence-wise and interpersonal-wise (is that a word?) there is a lot for me to gain.
I called home (I trust you both heard my messages) and Merriem told me that you were on your way home from Kruger – not the response I wanted since I was planning on asking for uncle a to send me a bottle of stella mcartney perfume with pj! However a little birdie (george) told me that the man himself will be coming over in a few months so I might make a personal request closer to the time!
How was the trip to the Kruger and PJ's grad? I did try call PJ last week but there was no answer – I'm guessing he was stargazing while going on safari (that's what they call going to the bush over here).
I am following the cricket closely but never have the chance to watch since I'm always at work, but the guy in the café opposite the tube station is always keen for a convo about it and I usually end up chatting to him for a few mins when popping in to buy the paper (it's newspapers on the way to work and a book on the way home – I am ridiculously well-informed, except the papers here are absolute rubbish, all tabloids, I can't tell you about Iraq, but I can tell you ALL about Prince Will and Kate Middleton's breakup, or what Harry might have bought to wear in Iraq). I had the good luck of being in the office when we played England and the taunting from my co-workers started to peter out after hall had taken his 5 th wicket… my voice did get a bit louder, however I wasn't overly confident since the SA team has the ability to both dazzle and disgust without ever allowing one the luxury of consistency.
If you believe that living in a first world country means that banking is simpler better and faster you would be wrong. I am still waiting for my bank card after opening a bank account at the beginning of last month. The first card was lost after being sent to the wrong place in the first place, and the second is somewhere in transit (acton says it's at canary wharf and canary wharf say it's at acton, while I simultaneously received letters from each saying they had my card). The frustration is really far too much, especially since I need my card desperately. But the best is yet to come – just because you have the card doesn't mean you have the pin code! No no, the land of the pale and patient believes in complete secrecy on all fronts and so your card can only be collected but the pin will come in the post. I'm absolutely confident that in true advanced-civilisation style my card, when it finally arrives shall not be compatible with the pin code, which I assume, is also dancing the great abyss between acton and canary wharf. I wait in absolute anticipation for the next move. I see why they lost to the Zulus.
My laptop battery is about to die and I have a mere hour left until I get to Euston (after which it's just a hop, skip, and 1km uphill walk home) so I expect I'll enter my house at approx 10pm. Yes, I love my job…
Love to all back home!
Jax
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