Leaving Do and Moving Plans…Again

Just got home from my ‘going away’ party. I can’t believe work threw me a party. I was only a temp, and a holiday one at that. Maybe it’s because Mum’s a lifer at the shop, or maybe my boss is just super nice.

Also, I’m kinda, sorta, finally getting used to hanging out with Mum socially. Well, not completely used to it. It’s not like she’s totally a ‘real’ person yet, she’s still Mum. But tonight was good.
After the shop closed all the staff went out for a meal to Wagamama’s. Mum was sitting adjacent to me, and we actually chatted. We talked about my flat, and what (I hope) the job is going to be like. I told her that I’m dead nervous about working for an agent, because I know nothing about that part of publishing. I’m worried they think I know more than I do. I hope they plan on training me. I mean, it’s not like I can’t handle being thrown into things, but being trained would certainly be beneficial. And Mum didn’t nagg or try to tell me how she thinks I should handle my new job. She just listened. It was cool.

After dinner we all went to the pub, and I talked to ALevel for ages. She’s so lovely, and I’m going to miss working with her. She kind of reminds me of me at that age. (Okay, I know it’s super vein to say that sort of thing, and I used to hate it when teachers would say that to me, but this time it’s kind of true.) So I told ALevel that she should think about going to Uni in Dundee. She could come live with me. It would be a blast.

Okay, it was the sentamentality and the drink that got us planning a crazy future that resembled a sitcom: the English Lit student and the Agent. All the wacky things we’d get up to.

Silliness aside, the night was a good laugh, but now I can’t sleep. I keep thinking about everyting I have to do. Here’s the schedule of what I need to get done (honestly, this is more for my own benefit. I do love my ‘to do’ lists.):

Tomorrow: Big night with the gang. Okay, the gang is now just D and M, but I’ll still need to get all my packing done during the day on Saturday, because I’ll most certainly be hung over on Sunday.

Monday: Dad’s coming down to pick me up after work on Monday, so he’s not getting here until late. He’s being a massive grump about the move, and Mum’s not helping. Dad’s bitching that he’s got to take the day off work on Tuesday and Wednesday to help, and he keeps asking why I can’t move over the weekend. But I can’t move over the weekend, because the people who live in the flat are just now moving out, and they’ve got to have it cleaned and all. So I can’t move in until the 1st, which is a Wednesday.

I told him not to bother helping me move, that I can sort myself out. But he keeps coming back with, ‘You tried that once before and ended up homeless.’ Jesus, I was hardly homeless; I found a place to live.
Although, I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth (I never realised how weird that phrase is until I just now wrote it down), because my Christmas present from Dad and Paula is to kit out the flat. So, after we drop off my stuff on Wednesday, he’s taking me shoping. You know for dishes, and a kettle, and that sort of thing.

Anyway, so Dad’s coming up on Monday night, but Mum won’t let him stay in the house. And Dad says that he wouldn’t stay in the house even if Mum said it was okay (come on people, you’ve been divorced like for 100 years), so he’s getting a hotel on Monday night. Which he’s totally bitching about because of the cost. So I said, just come down to collect me on Tuesday morning, but he says that’s too much driving in one day. So, we’re going to pack the car on Monday night, Dad will stay at a hotel with all my stuff in the car, then Tuesday morning Mum’s bringing me to the hotel, then Dad and I are up the road to Dundee.

We should get into Dundee in the evening, so we’ll have to stay in another hotel. Yes, Dad’s totally bitching about this too. I told him if he wanted to help, he could just buy me a train ticket and I’d move myself, but he’d rather be a fucking martyr than be practicle. I mean, I can’t complain about the fact that Dad is paying for my move. The Agency said that they’d pay for my relocation, so I’m going to take Dad’s hotel and petrol receipts, give that to the Agency, and use that money to reimburse myself for the deposit on the flat.

Right, so Dad and I have a hotel on Tuesday night, and then I move in on Wednesday morning. He’ll then take me for a big shop, and head back to Newcastle.

That’s me in Dundee on my lonesome for a few days, then…here’s the big news….HarryPotter is coming over on the Friday after work!

I’m so massively nervous. We haven’t seen each other in nearly a year. We’ve totally made up, and we’re friends again. In fact, he’s been such a big help with this whole moving to Dundee thing. But it’s going to be weird, but good weird. I’m really, really, really excited.

Well, I’d better get off to bed, I’ve got loads of packing to do tomorrow.


4 responses to “Leaving Do and Moving Plans…Again

  1. I’m such a wally. I forgot the most lovely part. Everyone at work pitched in and got me this really nice photo album that’s got an engraved silver cover. It’s not engraved with like words or anything, just a nice pattern. Maybe if I’m home during the holidays I can go back and work there. I really will miss them.

  2. What’s weird about it?

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