Behind a cut, to save you all my whining.
Since ‘moving’ to Bristol life has been a bit of a struggle. Not in terms of the struggles many people face on a day to day basis, but in terms of going from fundamentally a very easy life, to something where every day feels like a mountain to climb. I know, I’m weak, feeble and mollycoddled. And frankly, what I’m going through now is nothing compared to when my dad had cancer. But it feels pretty f’cking hard, just lots of constant negatives eating away at things.
Work, in particular, has been difficult. Going from near-senior to someone that is barely acknowledged by some of the senior staff; being told off by senior’s so up their own arses they won’t actually listen (until 10 minutes later, when they acknowledge that you were reasonable to do what you did with an ‘Oh’). Working with a senior who is, frankly, a bully, and while I’m not going to stand for that, waiting mentally for the attack is tiring. Right at this moment – looking for a new job seems reasonable, but I know I should give it 6 months. 6 Months and I’ll probably feel fine. I like a lot of my new colleagues, and have enjoyed a lot more days recently. But today wasn’t one of those days.
The house is still dragging on, with no news of anything from the land registry, adding to which there’s the stress of where we’ll be living. We don’t actually officially have anywhere specific to live in 3 days time. Our landlord hasn’t confirmed or denied our request to hang around for 14 more days, as of yet, and I have no idea where we’re going to be. This is not soothing on the nerves. I’m clinging to the hope that – tomorrow, maybe, given that it’s not actually a day off, someone (anyone) at the Land Registry might get the answers back to the useless gobshites acting as solicitors for the vendor, and they might manage to unstick their arse from the chair on which it’s wedged far enough to send (ideally e-mail, or fax, but probably given their lackadaiscal approach, more likely it’ll be urgently taken by lame-pony and square-wheeled-trapp) the damn thing to our solicitors so we can actually get a completion date. Ideally a completion date within the first week of this exciting new year.
And so, the simple fact that I tried to get a new phone and failed leaves me wanting to curl up in a dark corner and wait-out the world. I am sick of this stupid shit. Frankly.
