My mum’s house hasn't yet entered the digital age, so I've been in a bit of an internet dark age for the last 6 or seven days; but the main reason I went back up there was to attend a job interview.
As I've documented several times over the last few weeks, my existence in the backwater township of Gloucester is hardly enjoyable, and so I've taken steps to relocate my ass back to where stuff actually happens and I don’t have to live in a flat with shit spread all over the inside (and occasionally the outside) of the toilet. As it turns out, I wasn't successful at the job interview but I was offered a small lifeline by the woman who interviewed me – there’s another post coming up in 4-6 weeks and they’d like to keep me in mind for it. Obviously I jumped at the chance and even though it’s not a guaranteed job offer, I'm going to throw caution to the wind, quit my current job and move home as soon as possible. It’ll probably mean crashing on my mum’s couch for a few weeks until I can get a place of my own sorted...but fuck it. What’s life about if not taking risks once in a while? Better to be on my mum’s couch (well, spare bed) than here in total isolation wrestling with boredom-induced alcoholism every night of the fucking week.
I've already written an email to my manager offering my resignation...but judging from my previous attempts to quit, she’ll try to convince me otherwise and get me to stay. Not going to happen this time, not a chance. I just want to do my notice, hire a van and transport all my shit home (or rather, into storage). After that, I think I’ll go for a short holiday before Christmas. Cheers for the payout, Royal Navy! I was always planning on going backpacking in Thailand or somewhere when this job ended in April, but now my plans have changed I think I’ll spend a little less on a nice week away on my own somewhere instead. Europe maybe. Or possibly further afield. Don’t know yet. I just need to clear my head and then come back refreshed – get Christmas out of the way and then start getting my life and head back together without the constant feeling that I want to be somewhere else.
My week in Manchester was also filled with lots of running (33 miles worth, in fact) and also lots of photography (several GBs worth). I've started a Flickr account and will be uploading the best of the shots I manage to squeeze out of the Fuji’s massive lens, so stay tuned for those you lucky people. Other highlights of the last week included Manchester’s Christmas market...but in all truth they were that busy that calling them a ‘highlight’ is a bit of a lie. I made the error of trying to meet a mate there on Saturday night and the sheer size of the crowds meant that we stayed for little more that 5 minutes before leaving. I shouldn’t have been surprised by the amount of people swarming about seeing as it was the payday weekend, but it was definitely the busiest I’ve ever seen the markets. I remember when I was living in Manchester before joining the navy – the Christmas markets were never like that – you literally couldn’t move in some places, such was the volume of people standing around trying to buy a glass of hot wine for a fiver or a chocolate-covered banana for some equally extortionate sum. Nevertheless, we found some decent pubs and had a good night, so it was alright in the end.
Sunday I went to Smithfield market, which is basically the world’s biggest car boot sale...and just wandered around looking at stalls over-flowing with cheapo toys and hideous chav clothes. Didn’t buy anything (except a fucking amazing Cumberland sausage barm with mushrooms), but it was good to get out amongst the hustle and bustle of a proletariat market. But now I'm back in Gloucester. Not for long though. Not for long. Hopefully, I'll be outta here by mid December and can get on with trying to sort my life out. Exciting times ahead!
Oh, and you can check out my Flickr photo 'stream' here.
