Time to get this party started

Right! The fellow who will be assessing my career/choices/skills/strengths/entire life with me just called and my first appointment is on Wednesday. Are you excited too?

In other news:

Back at work today. Let's not talk about that.

Baltic in Scotland, Baltic here in France too. Still, no snow in our part of France which is a relief for 2 reasons: 1/ I can't be doing with any more snow; 2/ The French are quite crap at salting/ploughing/gritting and generally keeping the roads clear. I thought it was just me who held this view, having grown up in Scotland were car bodywork lifetime is severely compromised from all the salt the cooncils sling on the roads every winter, but French people would appear to agree that there is "un problème". As my father-in-law said yesterday, the weather forecasters foretell snow, the whole nation knows snow is coming, and the highways people awaken in the morning, open their curtains, and say "oh, it's been snowing!".

Tsk.

Every fool's got a reason to feel sorry for themself

And this fool's reason? This fool has been feeling sorry for herself because she suddenly realised her job had gone from "quite interesting" to "boring 9 to 5". I don't quite know when that happened, but I woke up one day and realised I didn't want to do it any more.

So I'm going to do a career assessment. What's a career assessment, you all say. Well. It's a... well, a career assessment. It goes something like this: You have several meetings with a consultant who asks you lots of questions about you, your job, your aspirations, your likes/dislikes (work-related and not-quite-so-work-related). It's like a great big personality/skills/career assessment. The aim of which is to make sure your career is on track to where you want it to be going, where you feel comfortable with it going, and how to make it go where you would like if it's not there already. Sort of.

I'm feeling enthusiastic about doing the career assessment, because I know it will help me identify where my strengths are, and my weaknesses. When it's done, I'll have a much better idea of where I want to go and how to get there. The expectation being that my destination will be something I have chosen and decided, not something that just sort of happened to me (which is pretty much how I ended up doing what I currently do).

I am feeling a bit crestfallen about my employer's reaction to all this. Having explained that I wasn't motivated by my job any more and no, it's not the company, it's the job, I was maybe hoping my manager might say "so let's talk about this, tell me what you'd like to change if you could". But no. They just said "OK, well, keep us posted". I almost heard "OK, well, let us know when you're ready to resign".

Hey ho.

Still, will not let that dampen my enthusiasm. I have a challenge, a project. It's mine and I don't care if my employer doesn't want to share it with me. Maybe I don't want to share it with them ;)

Here I am! Having a grouse - there's a surprise

I'm a disgrace, I said I was coming back with a ...pffft, and then I didn't.

Still, I'm here now. Popping in before I probably flit off again like a blogging butterfly. I do hope any of you who might be reading this are well and happy. No swine/type A flu I trust?

So what's the chat? Weeeellllllll. I'm thinking of retraining and becoming a goat herd. Possibly not a goat herd as one must get up early to tend to one's goats. But not doing what I currently do any more. I sort of woke up one day and it suddenly occurred to me that the every day, bread & butter part of my job bores the life out of me. Watch this space for news of goats.

The French government has, in its infinite stupidity, invented a new way to bleed our resources with taxe carbone (or carbon/green/environment tax). They patronisingly try to tell us that this levy will make us all more environmentally-friendly. Petrol will be taxed at the staggering rate of 4p extra a litre. Crikey, better sell the car! What the carbon tax is, in reality, is a money-spinner for a cash-strapped government. It will penalise people who live in rural areas where public transport is utterly non-existent and the least well-off for whom heating and fuel bills are already a huge chunk of their budget. It certainly won't change the way I use the car, because 4p more a litre is not a big enough rise to hit my budget all that hard. It is all stick and no carrot. We're being told off for not being green enough, but there is no real concerted effort to help ordinary folks to invest in more sustainable choices (roof insulation, power/heating using renewable energies). Plus nuclear power isn't getting taxed at all because apparently it's a non-polluting energy source. Riiiight.

Continuing with the France-bashing, there is much hand-wringing and consternation with September's road collision stats. 393 dead in September is over 17% more than Sept 08. When I consider the dreadful driving standards I witness on what is a very short commute (10 mins) to work and back, I'm surprised this number isn't higher. If you're in a hurry, no need to stop at the red light. Indicators and rear-view mirrors are for mummy's boys. Chavs on scooters must leave a gap of no more than 3cm with the vehicle in front (maximising their chances of running into said vehicle in the event of sudden, or even not so sudden, braking). And yoofs on bikes must pedal along with no awareness of the car that is about to squash them to death. Ah-la-la-la!!!

Staying on a motoring theme, I'm all cleaned out having forked up 200 and something euros for 4 new Michelins for the small car. Nice deep tread, ready for the winter. Jolly good thing though cos since I got them it's been sodding raining and my racing slicks just wouldn't have done the job.

And to end on a topical note, who else thinks awarding the Nobel Peace Prize to US president Barack Obama was a bit, well, ... not on. I don't have anything at all against the man, but he hasn't really done much has he? And that's hardly surprising, he's only been on the job a few months, give him a chance. I just feel it somewhat discredits the prize and past winners (worthy ones, because not all of them have been!) when it's handed out to someone on the basis of his good intentions and the promise of what they might bring.

So there.

C'est tout!

The latch on the bathroom door is broke

My idle mind might not quite be the devil's workshop but it's definitely a never-ending source of "how about we do this?" ideas. And would you believe it I actually managed to gain approval when I submitted the latest one to the committee of the Hubby? Well I did. And what is my latest hair-brained scheme? A new bathroom. Ta-dah!

We bought this house 6½ years ago. The year following purchase we got someone in to do a quote for a new bathroom. They quoted us over €3,000 for a new everything. You might think "ah, not bad", but our bathroom measures 2.5 sq m and we weren't having the floor re-tiled (just the walls). The plan to re-do the bathroom quietly died.

So anyway, I got this idea in my head that if I bought some tile paint & primer, I could paint the wall tiles and update the room a bit. And then when I went of my way while I was on the way to the DIY store to buy salt for our water softening thing, I stopped at the bathrooms & kitchens store and picked up a catalogue. And when I got home I took out my tape measure and got a pencil and bit of paper. And you know where this is heading.

Being that we have a microscopic bathroom, I flicked past the pages with walk-in showers big enough to host a cocktail party in and the fetching double-basin consoles to seek out the "compact" lines. So whaddya think? Except we like the mocha laquer finish and a gloss white countertop. Also I'm wondering about the wisdom of a glass basin. Won't I be wiping it down all the time? So we'd like one of those, a matching wall cupboard, and a new shower. A proper shower with a ceramic shower tray and glass shower doors. And a nice cream & coffee colour scheme going on with the walls.

We went at lunchtime to have it all priced properly (because of course, they sell you a tap for €155, but the flexi pipes to link it to your hot & cold water cost extra!!). And we asked them to quote for fitting while we were at it. It would seem Hubby and I have made a major career-choice error. We should be bathroom fitters. Going on their quote, it's a nice little earner so it is. Which means probably I'll just plead (shouldn't take much) with me Dad to come and help us.

Now I'm really excited about having a new bathroom. Hubby will probably announce we won't be getting a new bathroom until January by which time I won't want one anymore. Hope not. Can't wait!

And it will all cost less than one euro grand.

There's something happening somewhere

Finally we may have a breakthrough in Hubby's quest for a new (and interesting and challenging) job. He has been offered a 3-month secondment in London to work on the roll-out of WiMax projects. More details will be forthcoming. Suffice to say we are all mightily pleased and hope that it will be a fulfilling experience for him, whatever it may lead to.

Faced with an empty text box

My blogging has been lacking lately. No posts, no visits to my blogroll. No nothing. One explanation is that I have been avoiding my laptop. The horrid fluorescent felt tip pen came back and I didn't want to use my laptop in case it made it worse. Anyway, it seems to have gone away all by itself for the moment.

Another explanation is feeling slightly guilty (as deftly-explained by Princesse Ecossaise) about not maintaining my blog and visiting everyone else. Which is silly really, but that's what I'm all about, isn't it? Silly, I mean.

Yet another explanation is lack of anything blog-worthy to tell. Lately I've been low and worn out and just not right. I can't sleep because my brain likes to be awake at 4am and think about things in a very excited and busy way. My body thinks this is a crock o' shite but it can't get my brain to SHUT UP and GO TO SLEEP. It's been so bad some nights I've switched the light back on and reached for a book to pass the time until sheer fatigue inevitably takes over. Doc has given me some proper drugs because the drowsy-making anti-histamine tablets weren't making a jot of difference. I hope my brain will quickly come round to the idea that thinking is for daylight hours, and the only decent thing to be doing at 4am is sleeping.

Hubby is jolly fed up with his stupid job. When he tells me about the stupid working methods they have and management's flat refusal to invest in any tools that might make his team's job easier and help them produce better, more reliable results, I am struck by how patient he is. I just could not work in the environment he works in. I'd have shouted very rudely at people and probably assaulted my boss long since. Poor Hubby.

The company in the UK that wants a telephone interview hasn't been back in touch this week to re-schedule (the first attempt went nowhere due to difficulties with their conference call system), but hey. Hubby is very diligently practising his English. We used to speak mostly French to each other but now it's mostly English. I have taught him useful idiomatic English such as "innit" or finishing every other sentence with "but" (this is to prepare him for visits to Lanarkshire to see Bro & Family). But he is under strict instructions not to show off this mastery of modern English during any interviews!

Doggy is as delightful as ever. Here is proof:

Pic taken with my new toy, which is now back from after-sales hell and works again. Obviously. That hairy blue thing behind her used to be a slipper, but she savaged it. She's that sort of a doggy. Can you tell from the photo?

If you were paying attention you'll have figured out that Bro & Family have finally moved West. They sold their flat very quickly (within two days of it going on the market!), but finding a new house didn't happen quite so quickly. And when they did find one and their offer was accepted, it wasn't looking likely they would get entry the same weekend they had agreed to vacate their flat. It was all a bit of a soap opera, but they are at last installed and have a postcode that starts with "G". The day they moved in, some curious kids from round about stopped by to see who the new neighbours were. Sis-in-law says she didn't understand one word they said. It's Sis-in-law's birthday today. Everyone say Happy Birthday.

Anyway, that's enough from me. I'm going to change my "currently reading" book and make a cup of tea and visit some blogs. Cheery-bye.

What's your point ,caller?

So what *is* my point? What is the point of this blog? Do I have anything useful to say? And why is the wifi so bleedin' slow today?

First I have long overdue blushing thanks for Mya's nomination of this blog for a glittering prize. One day hopefully quite soon I'll display it with pride. But for now I'll just say "thank you, Mya, I'm touched".

I have lots of blogs to catch up on. I lazily technorati'd this morning to check out the latest news from my "favourite" blogs. Was upset to see that the dazzling Miss D has been struggling with her demons, and indignant to read Sugar's story of her freaky date and how all men just want to bed you. And there's lots else going on in the blogosphere and look how behind I've got!

I still don't seem to be able to hold on to an idea long enough to be able to write one down. I so want to blog about just what we've been up to (braderie last weekend, it was really warm and we made about 200 euros - yay!), what we're going to be doing (visit home soon-ish), and just generally give forth on anything and everything (as I'm prone to do)... But my mind is in a big rush and won't let me take the time to make up a proper post on anything. So you're just getting a sort of stream-of-consciousness pile of nonsense. Sorry!

So we did the braderie. It was hot (in October?!). We sold champagne corks (no kidding).

Hubby had an interview in Brussels on Wednesday but we don't really know what for. That doesn't make any sense. The employer is an IT services company and the job would be as a "consultant". But no further information. The compensation package sounded very generous so it probably means they expect you to work 10 hours a day. Every day. Hmm.

On Friday, Hubby got a call from a company in the UK that had already contacted him a couple of weeks ago. They want to arrange a telephone interview. Exciting!

I made Greek stuffed tomatoes out of my Rick Stein book. Surprisingly managed not to butcher any other fingers (last week I did some amateur amputation surgery with a Sabatier paring knife on my little finger - damn sharp them knives). They were a bit fiddly to make but really pretty tasty.

I also think I've accidentally stumbled on some kind of time warp/hole/thing. In the office, we don't have Earth minutes, we have Work minutes. They must only contain about 22 Earth seconds, and probably a Work hour lasts about 13 Earth minutes. This is the only possible explanation for how quickly the days whizz by. Except there is also a sort of reverse time warp that happens when someone says "I'll send you the files in about ten minutes", and two hours later, you still haven't received them...

I opened my last pack of tea bags this morning. I only have about 42 tea bags left. We're going to Scotland in 3½ weeks. Two cups of tea a day into 42 tea bags doesn't add up to enough tea until we go. Even mathematically-challenged Lis can work that out (and I didn't even need a pen and paper to do the sums)!

I wanted to debate (well, have a one-sided rant) about the hypocrisy of being a member of Les Verts (political party not unlike The Green Party, surprisingly enough), but nevertheless driving one's child to school every morning although you only live about a fifteen minute walk away (with no busy roads to cross en route). I don't get how you can join a party that claims to fight for the environment, but pollute so wantonly and pointlessly. But there is nothing to debate. The person in question is a hypocrite. End of.

I also want to know why the eco-mental green-friendly liquid hand soap is only sold by the dispenser-load. I mean, they don't sell refills. You have to buy a whole new dispenser each time. It doesn't make any sense.

And lastly, I'd like you all to have a look at the Earth Clock. And think on. Thanks to maxxo for leading me to that. Maxxo is a clockwork bunny who likes brewing nice cups of tea. I think she sounds interesting.

Gi'us a job

Hubby applied for an exciting job on Friday. Well, exciting if you like designing data networks I suppose. Hubby says it's the best match to his skills and experience he's seen, and we ran it by Matt who said it looked like a good find too. The salary definitely sounds exciting in any case.

It's in Bristol. Not sure how I feel about Bristol. Still, let's not get ahead of ourselves, he only sent in his CV and the recruiter didn't immediately summon him to interview (or, even better, promptly offer him the job). He also applied to a position in Livingston yesterday. Very little chance of that going anywhere because in the ad there's that usual list of "must haves": excellent knowledge of [insert name of some fibre networking technology here], and Hubby says "um, I've heard of it". And anyway, do we really want to go and live in Livingston? I mean, I know I'm no angel, but I don't think I deserve to live in Livingston... !

As for me, a chap from a recruitment firm phoned on Monday, he wants to set me up a telephone interview with a company in Yorkshire. Crikey, a telephone interview. Err...

Not sure how I feel about it all. I am homesick and want to go home, but I have been shifting all the "responsibility" onto Hubby. He's the one applying for all the jobs, I just stuck my CV on a job website to see what would happen... Also, I am (mostly) happy in my job. He is miserable in his. But I have minimal career progression possibilities. He could be earning big bucks and being a high-flying senior engineer.

Sometimes having to make grown up decisions and choices is hard. I wish I could just ask Mum.

Choices, choices

Imagine you fancy a change (of job, of scene, of whole and total country of residence). So you're on the look out for opportunities of gainful employment in your target region because it's not by clicking your dainty red heels together and affirming "there's no place like home" that you're magically going to wing your way to where you want to be. And, having barely clicked "publish" on the jobs website to send your CV off into the cyber-world to find potential suitors, already 2 emails grace your inbox, with expressions of interest from the promised land. Except that, they are offering a job that you really would like to do, in either Yorkshire or Cheshire. And you wanted Scotland.
It's a toughie.