Last days of Dickson

We’re moving out of Dickson this weekend. It’s been Fiona’s home since 1997, so there’s a touch of melancholy for her to be leaving it behind. It’s a bit weird for me too – I’ve lived there for nearly four years, which makes it my longest run in a single place of residence since I moved out of home.

We had Richard, the new owner, and his partner Kerry over for dinner last night. That was fun, but more importantly it made the transition just a little bit easier, especially for Fi. It helps to know that we’re handing the place over to people who’ve lived in share houses and flats with eccentric characters, so the occasional outbursts of demented argument from next door probably won’t phase them. And they have a relative who’s keen on landscaping, so it’s possible that they will be able to make a go of the front yard. I look forward to seeing that – the hash we made of the job has always been a (very minor) source of humiliation for us, so it will be good to see all evidence of our horticultural ignorance scourged from the streetscape…

Meanwhile, at Renovation Central

I haven’t done much lately, but Meagan has been throwing herself into the renovations with a will, tearing down rotten wall panels and spacking over the gutted remains. After a comically dusty day of sanding back plaster last weekend, we’ve finally finished the ceiling in the dining room. Meagan applied the first undercoat layer after that, and you can, with appropriate squinting and investiture of imagination, begin to perceive the warm and spacious room that it is destined eventually to become. Sooner or later.

There’s a lot still to do, of course. Between them the kitchen and dining rooms have about thirty of forty metres of plaster cornice to attach, by all accounts a procedure requiring dispiritingly precise measurement and attention to detail (not my personal strong suits, obviously). There’s a lot of painting to do, as well, not to mention further remedial work on the walls (particularly the ones that are composed of little more than numerous generations of sloppily-applied plaster). The floors will need some sort of covering before long. And hey, after that we have the lounge and study to see to. But for all that it’s many long months of work before we can expect to be done, I am really looking forward to it.

Week off

Another thing I’m looking forward to is that I’m taking next week off work, for moving and renovating purposes. After the madness of the last few weeks, it will be a relief to turn my focus in a completely different direction from office politics and bitchiness and manoeuvring. That will all still be here when I get back, of course, but the break will do me good (especially since it’s going to be followed quickly by another break at Christmas).

Work is better now that the old boss is up and away. The chaos is slowly beginning to settle and I’ve been offered a chance to stay on and manage a small project of my own. Not sure I’m really up to it – project management seems to require the ability to keep dozens of things in your head at once – but it’s rather a welcome compliment that people whose judgment I respect seem to think I’m capable. I’ve also been offered a spot managing a project in a rapidly-disintegrating section which has two feral team leaders and a director that hasn’t told anyone that she’s leaving soon. Hmm. No thanks. I’ll stick with the conceivably-surmountable challenge, I think.

C’mon America!

Don’t let me down, US voters. At the risk of upsetting The Accidental Blogger, I’d rather have The Zombie than four more years of the War Ape.

Anyway, enough of that. It’s barely possible, even if the War Ape does manage to fecklessly charm his way back into the White House, that the world will not be plunged into nuclear apocalypse. So having made that grudging concession, I will talk about something else now.

Work don’t always suck so bad

The IT boss has announced – or rather, revealed to a select few confidantes, who have passed it on to the rest of us – that he’s out the door as of next Wednesday. This is good news – basically, he now doesn’t have time to bugger anything else up. I’ve already started organising meetings that he won’t be at. It’s a good feeling, and I’m really upbeat about the job today.

That might also be due to some really positive feedback at my performance review yesterday. My supervisor – who admittedly rarely has an unkind thing to say about anyone – praised my attention to detail, supportiveness and team-playeriness (not his ‘words’). He also passed on similar feedback from several other senior staff with whom I’ve had occasional dealings. Although I have my doubts that they could have been paying much attention during my recent meltdown, it’s faintly possible that in the rush to beat myself up for being crap at my work, I have overlooked certain virtues that other people value. I was, for example, surprised to hear it said that whenever I am heard to criticise something in a meeting, it’s usually serious.

That doesn’t sound like me…