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for once, avoid spoilers
Apr. 15th, 2012 11:40 amYesterday, we saw Cabin in the Woods - very Buffy Season 4, yes/no?
I never post much when things are going well. Don’t taunt the gods of irony, and all that. Here we are, both in temp work, his “guaranteed” to turn permanent, and mine, I interviewed for last week. Neither paycheck is much to write home about, but both are better than we’ve been getting, especially in Scotland. And both jobs come with nice co-workers.
We’re hoping, if my job comes through and my newly renewed passport comes back without any hitches (crossing fingers), to put in our two months’ notice for our flat and move before the Olympics. We’d planned to wait until after, but then we’ll be wrestling with college students for anywhere reasonably priced. Plus, this neighbourhood is rapidly sliding from sketchy to slummy.
At the moment, you literally can’t get through the entrance to our place without stepping in and brushing against the entire neighborhood’s flytipped garbage and human waste from barflies and potheads. That horrible bar next door has a new manager, one that likes to crank the music until 2 or 3 in the morning, and the feral ghouls who sit in their miniscule “beer garden,” seemingly immune to the stench of all that garbage…ugh. They’re worse to walk past than the physical filth. The neighbours and I have made complaints to the council, which tells us they’re too busy to take on any new issues.
So, see? Our lives are mostly good, and I’m still complaining. It’s a gift.
We’ve started exploring south of the river, closer to R’s job. The flats advertised there are about the same price as our hole up north, but in much better repair, and more purpose-built rather than chopped-up rowhouses. If we could eat £900 a month in rent, we could probably even pull off a smallish two-bedroom flat in a proper apartment building, with a longer commute. There’s still one rental agency in the NW we plan on giving a try, but the SE possibilities are making our eyes go all heart-shaped.
I never post much when things are going well. Don’t taunt the gods of irony, and all that. Here we are, both in temp work, his “guaranteed” to turn permanent, and mine, I interviewed for last week. Neither paycheck is much to write home about, but both are better than we’ve been getting, especially in Scotland. And both jobs come with nice co-workers.
We’re hoping, if my job comes through and my newly renewed passport comes back without any hitches (crossing fingers), to put in our two months’ notice for our flat and move before the Olympics. We’d planned to wait until after, but then we’ll be wrestling with college students for anywhere reasonably priced. Plus, this neighbourhood is rapidly sliding from sketchy to slummy.
At the moment, you literally can’t get through the entrance to our place without stepping in and brushing against the entire neighborhood’s flytipped garbage and human waste from barflies and potheads. That horrible bar next door has a new manager, one that likes to crank the music until 2 or 3 in the morning, and the feral ghouls who sit in their miniscule “beer garden,” seemingly immune to the stench of all that garbage…ugh. They’re worse to walk past than the physical filth. The neighbours and I have made complaints to the council, which tells us they’re too busy to take on any new issues.
So, see? Our lives are mostly good, and I’m still complaining. It’s a gift.
We’ve started exploring south of the river, closer to R’s job. The flats advertised there are about the same price as our hole up north, but in much better repair, and more purpose-built rather than chopped-up rowhouses. If we could eat £900 a month in rent, we could probably even pull off a smallish two-bedroom flat in a proper apartment building, with a longer commute. There’s still one rental agency in the NW we plan on giving a try, but the SE possibilities are making our eyes go all heart-shaped.
