Last week was full of surprises. Apparently we might be buying a house? It’s not quite signed and sealed yet so I shouldn’t really be making any big announcements, but ooh er. It’s got masses of space, and it’s a short walk from our current place, so that’s all that really matters. It is nice, but as you can tell I don’t entirely love it. But it’s nice.
Good timing, since I am probably out of a job as of April. I know, I know, traditionally that would be exactly not the time to get in hock up to the eyeballs, but actually paying for the house will be fine (super low interest rates and all that – we’ll be fine for the foreseeable future). I just need a nice fat payslip to convince the bank we’ll be fine. Job done, apparently, so thank you very much to my corporate overlords for that at least.
Meanwhile I have two job applications in, and two contacts for possible freelance work, and there’s an outside chance I could stay in current job in some way (a prospect I’m not entirely thrilled about but it could work out well). So I feel reasonably confident I’ll still have some kind of work when my contract runs out. Would be nice to know what, mind.
One of those jobs is 100%, and if I stayed in current job, it would likely also still be heavy hours (but cyclical, so alternating with weeks of very light hours). I’m very not keen on the prospect of carrying on as I have been. But I’m also not keen on going back to freelance – I want structure. So, keeping my options open. But yuck.
I have all these systems in place to keep me organised, but I’ve been too overloaded to maintain them. Which of course leads directly to more overwhelm. But I keep choosing to put off the organising, even though I know it’s causing me problems. I just want some time off dammit. Because being a grownup, with an actual demanding grownup job, is bloody HARD.