Things are starting to feel like real life again now, a bit of routine - even if that routine is, well, a bit routine at times. But I am getting to the point where things are getting familiar and some of 'the buzz' has gone out of the everyday things. In the last couple of weeks, for the first time since I left, I started to have 'those serious moments'. So how did we get to this point?
Without wishing to rehash what has gone before - I do need to delineate some of the predominant themes.
Leaving was not as bad as I thought - although the paranioa was in ready supply. The trip itself was a breeze, to the point that I almost lamented not having my 'tale of woe' to portray on arrival! Mark and Kathryn picked me up from the airport and proceeded to spoil me rotten for the next three weeks. They have been superb - but as people said, that's what you do when you're in London.
I genuinely hope that someone I know comes over so that I can 'pay it forward'.
During that first period the days flew by - possibly because getting anywhere took me an age. But the buildings, the tubes, the double decker buses, the famous places and my god, the people! Everything was a buzz - I just walked around mesmerised by what, to those that live here, 'just is'. Money was for spending, I'd be earning pounds in no time - so hook into it son!
The only early dissapointment was getting pissed around on a job that I thought was a sure thing and sounded perfect. "We want you" - first meeting. "We want you - but have to fire the guy you will be replacing first" - second meeting. "We might pull the whole project, we are doing a review. But either way, we'll have something for you in a couple of months" - third meeting.
At this point many of you will be evaluating that last paragraph against my propensity to 'assume a done deal' somewhat prematurely, fair enough. But, although these guys have been honest all the way through - the whole "we want you - just not yet" was incredibly frustrating - it was real 'come here, come here, go away' stuff. To that point, I basically didn't bother with a Plan B - foolish boy.
So around week three I was starting to get itchy feet. I was starting to spend most of the day online (with London at my doorstep for f*&ks sake), looking for jobs - but never more than 2 irons in the fire at a time. Foolish boy.
Kathryn and Mark could not have made me feel more welcome - but, being me, I was starting to feel a bit like the last guest at the party that pours himself another wine after the hosts have finished their coffees. That analogy works far too well! I also craved some normality - something solid - some independence and a sense of ownership, some control. To me that meant lodgings. I think 'my inner Doug' (Dad) was starting to kick in.
A mate of Marks had a sister looking for a flatmate. Perfect, two bedroom place, good location, lovely girl, move straight in. Bingo, job done.
The flats great - but also represents a £600 a month albatross. Foolish boy? Perhaps (mum and Nick would argue yes!) - but I think 50/50. I would have gone mad without it. It has been great and has satisfied all the cravings listed above.
When Mum called a week or so ago, she quite rightly picked up my mood. For a freshy in London it was at best pensive, at worst, melancholy. I was starting to wonder how this whole thing would work out. Would I have to find a labouring job and eke out an existence? Should I pack it in - cash up and go back-packing and then home? (Stop laughing - I thought about bloody back-packing!)
There were also some lonely days. Despite there being so many things one 'should' be doing in London - sometimes I just didn't feel like trooping out there on my own and legging it around London. I don't think I would recommend traveling on your own to someone with my disposition. Then there were times that I would look at jobs and, for the first time in my professional life, doubt my ability to do them. That wasn't nice.
Where were all the wild adventures? The English girls? Basically, where were the things to write home about?
Then one day, and I don't know what sparked it (survival mode I suppose), I stopped feeling sorry for myself, and you got my shit together. I applied for a couple of jobs, got phone calls and have interviews set up for next week. I applied for another one today - not heard back yet but they are sure to want me as well. [yay, Frits back ;-)]
After sorting those interviews out, the next day was stunning and I did the Kiwi in London thing, and loved it. I also then realised that the wild adventures, chicks etc are actually out there - funnily enough - they ain't going read kiwilog and give me a call out of the blue!
If the two jobs next week don't come off, another one will. The bank balance is the same as it was last time a looked - but it is no cause for alarm for a good while yet.
People told me to expect ups and downs when travelling and they were right.
Travelling has already taught me something about myself - I don't do little day to day spikes of ups and downs, I trend up and down over a longer period. Rather than feel sad, miss home and have a little cry and then go looking for fun in response, I have tended to get increasingly anxious more than anything. That leads to a generally negative outlook and the whole world darkens a little for a while. Then one day I call myself all sorts of names - and snap out of it. On relection, this is no great epiphany but is crystalised by a sense of isolation I think.
So things are definitely on the upswing now. As I said, a couple of interviews next week, a brochure for three day trips to various places in Europe is the bedtime reading, Toast (a massive wine and food festival) tomorrow and it's 4pm on Friday and I'm off down The Albert! Things could be worse, a shite load worse!
Note to those who are wondering. The lack of comment about a certain individual is because I don't think that is fair to her. But things are fine and certainly have not contributed to anything mentioned above. It has been great to see her again and we are still close friends.
