Decision time…

Right, today’s the day.

You may have noticed me mention that I don’t currently have a permanent job?  Well, as part of the whole process, I have to submit a form today, where I chose some vacancies from a list that I would like to put my name down for.

Obviously it’s not that simple, wish that it were.  No, I give my preferences, they record it, other information gets assessed and then interviews can commence.  Then wait.

I hate interviews.  I hate applying for jobs in general if I’m honest, but needs must.  There is just one little problem….

Of all the jobs on the list, of which there aren’t many, not one of them takes my fancy.  Not one.  Not blowing my own trumpet but it’s not a case of talent or ability, I could do any job of my grade, but I have to take into account my penchant for getting bored.  I don’t like mundane jobs, routine tasks, I like to have a variety of things to do.  This is why I have lasted in my current, sorry old, job for eight years or so, variety.

I get bored so easily!

Anyway, today is deadline day and I can’t decide what to do.  Do I sit and read about all the details of each position or do I just get my darts out?!  Slightly more fun version than using a pin and a blindfold!

Keep your fingers cross for me!

Decision Time

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Decisions, Decisions

Right, you remember me telling you that I live in Government Housing?  Yes?  Well remembered.

Well, I still do but have been posed a rather serious question.  I have been sounded out about the possibility of moving to another house.  Same place, just round the corner.

Yes, I can hear you now.  Huh?  What’s the point in that?

And to some extent, you’d be right in raising those questions.  The reason I haven’t dismissed it completely is, well, it’s new.  It’s newly refurbished.  Completely.

The houses here are not the greatest quality, you’ll be extremely lucky if you had a room that didn’t have mould in it, didn’t have a crack in it, didn’t have anything in need of repair.  Now, we’ve been in our house for nigh on seven years, with both children growing up in it, but it is these children that I am tempted.  Surely in an updated house these factors would have been rectified, giving you a couple of years at least before you have to get the demoulder and bleach out.  Health and safety.

But, it is is two minutes from where we are.  It is a tough decision and I don’t like making decisions!

If you had the same decision what would you do?  Would you stay where you have been for many years or would you move round the corner to a new house?

What to do?

Dear Diary: What a week it has been…

The past week has been a write off.  Are you ready for a sob story?

It all started last Thursday evening.  A cold night with the threat of severe snow showers and freezing temperatures.  Of course this would be the perfect night for the heating to stop working!

I live in the sticks and use oil for my heating system.  It’s also rented accommodation so the whole thing is outdated anyway.  This means that if anything goes wrong or needs repairing I can’t just fix it myself (to a certain degree) or phone up someone to come and fix it.  No, I have to phone up the authorities who then send out their approved contractors.  Great.

First off I checked my tank gauge, half full.  Checked that the bloody thing was actually turned on, yes it is.  What the hell is then?  Phoned my boss who lives round the corner for some advice.  He suggests that the pilot could of gone out.

‘That’s nice, I wonder if it’s gone anywhere nice’ I replied.

A moments pause.  Press the big red button on the side of the tank.  Done.  Fires up, happy days.

Two minutes later, I’m still cold.  Go out to the boiler.  It’s not on.  Press the button again, fires up.  Stops. Bollocks.

Phones the authorities, luckily there’s a chap around and he’ll be sent.  Bloody good job, I say.  He has a quick look around, walks up to the tank and knocks on it.

‘It’s empty’ he says.

‘Fuck off is it’ I reply.

I have a look.  By fuck, it is.  No oil, yet the gauge says it’s half full.  I spy a problem.  Is it getting warmer in here, no, that was my blood boiling.  It was him and his mates that had been round and ‘fixed’ the gauge on two separate occasions.  Methinks he didn’t do it properly.

After about ten minutes of my shouting, he was allowed to leave.  Now what?  I have a two year old, a six week old and a wife that is moaning (normal) because she’s cold.  I have to make a drastic decision.

A few phone calls later and the path is clear.  Work will have to make do without me for a few days, I’m going to house where it’s warm.  Luckily my mother was willing to put us up, probably reluctantly going on past experiences, and just wait for oil to be delivered.

But wait, didn’t you say that snow was on the way and it was really cold?!

Yes I did.  It would appear that quite a few other people needed oil and the subsequent problems the snow caused on the roads meant that it was Tuesday before we got any delivered.  Great, now we could go home and I could go back to work.  Hurray!

You may not have any interest in my tale of woe and frustration, but if I hadn’t told anybody I would’ve just let this bug me for weeks.  People, if you are in a position, buy a house and don’t rent.  I hate having to rely on other people to get stuff done.  We were lucky this time that it wasn’t drawn out for hours as it has done before.

Oh well, it’s done.  It’s the weekend time to relax.

What did you say?  There’s more snow coming?

Fuck.  Check the tank…

Snow. A Pain