Return to bedlam

Weeellllll. First week at the new job, which is actually the old job from four years ago.

Two hours into the first day and I had a brief pause in the deluge of catching up and phone calls and old colleagues who have become new colleagues and I just sat there and it happened….

A massive smile, quite unexpectedly, crept up from the bottom of my chin and spread across my face until I my eyes were all crinkly and my teeth were shiny.

I *so* made the right decision.

Things have improved in the time I spent away (the Wilderness Years as we will now refer to them). New employees have popped up, the useless accounts lady had retired and her new replacement is a) a Geordie and thus reminds me of my Geordie relatives b) a very nice lady [no, not that way you filthy rats]. The lunatic sales manager who I used to work with before is still there and still, well, a lunatic but on the whole it’s got a bit better – which is nice.

Day three saw me receive an official complaint from a customer followed on day four by a faxed copy of the complaint and the original “will arrive in post in due course”. The M.D. rushed in with the details of the complaint and said to my assistant “you see this, the customer has no support contract, has not paid us for 90 days and we had to take him to court last year to force him to pay a bill of 100 pounds. That’s why Ian’s the boss’. Nice to have you back Ian”. See, correct perspective. You never get moaned at for implementing company policy and telling freeloading shiisters where to get off. Good karma. I’d like to give every one of the customers something for nothing but, well, you now there are about 50,000 of them and sometimes you do have to draw the line. Plus he was a twat and lied to me.

I’ve spent the second week in three partying with my father and psychotic sister. I had *such* good time. More bonding with my nephew (14) who informed my he wants to be a computer programmer when he leaves school (bless) – we’ve already arranged for him to come and work on work’s experience with me when the time comes. Friday night was spent at a 50th birthday party. This largely consisted of me, lil Sis and father livening up the brithday girl and her husband. There was a worrying amount of Elvis Presley played – something I have a congenital dislike for.

I was due to go back home on Saturday but ended up staying until Sunday morning. This meant we went out on the lash Saturday evening as well. [delicate readers may wish to stop reading at this point] It was to a “working men’s club” and entertainment consisted of a guy with a guitar who could not sing and could only play G, D, Am, C, E and A (can you tell I’m learning to play guitar). I watched for ages – he couldn’t or wouldn’t play bar chords – no F, no Bm which made his playing of most contemporary pop songs a little one dimensional. Hark at me as if I’m some kind of guitar god (I’m not). Incidentally, as I write this, Yusuf Islam a.ka. Cat Stevens is on the telly doing some kind of BBC TV music session. Now there’s a man who knows how to write and play decent guitar music….

Boy, my chest is ripped to shreds today because working men’s clubs seem to attract a higher proportion of smokers than normal. Roll on 1st July.

Oh, and I played bingo. A surreal experience since in the 1980s I used to work as an assistant manager for a bingo club and met my first wife there. I’ve called thousands of bingo games but only played a handful, if that, over the years. No, I didn’t win.

I got paid – twice – on friday. Once by the ex-employer and once by the new employer. This allows me to have a slightly more generous lifestyle than of late as it’s going to be the first month since splitting up with wife number 2 – 3 months ago – where I am a bit more sorted. In fact, it’s shaping up to be a financially good month which is nice. I’m still trying to work out the following – motorbike test and new motorbike or buy a new car?Ā  Answers please via the comments.

There was an excellent farmer’s market here today. My fridge is now stocked with weird things including fresh sorrel, three types of goat cheese, excellent English wine (bottle one open and partially consumed), cured, smoked and dried ostrich (think – parma ham with attitude), venison, game pie, English asparagus (not Spanish or Argentinian – we’re in season baby and it knocks the competition into a cocked hat), freshly laid free range local duck eggs, superb tomato olive and basil bread, chilli garlic preserve and other yummy stuff.

I’m such a lucky man …

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2 thoughts on “Return to bedlam

  1. It all sounds pretty good to me! Sometimes going back to a previous employment can be dangerous but it seems all the negative bits have moved on or don’t really have the same impact on you that they did once. You must have grown…. ;o)
    .
    Geordie girls would brighten any work place. I’m pretty sure I brighten mine! (I might be the only one who says that but never mind.)

  2. Yes, I’m sure it’s because I’ve grown šŸ˜‰

    In my experience, Geordie girls drink pints and scare the crap out of southern blokes…but in an intriguing kind of way…. šŸ˜›

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