Negotiations

I attempted to resign today. I hadn't intended to do it until tomorrow, when I could get my two bosses together and lessen the trauma for myself, but it occurred to me that it would not be good form for the HR department to receive a request for a reference when I've not told them I'm leaving. That wouldn't be the best way for the news to be broken to them.

So, in the absence of A, I gave F the option of talking about an undisclosed subject today, or waiting until tomorrow when A was around. She chose today. It did not go well in that it seemed that F was as close to crying as I've ever seen her get, but she seemed supportive enough. I explained my reasons for going and although I was asked if there was anything they could do to get me to stay, I said that there wasn't. The company just wasn't the place for my future plans to be carried out.

I told D, who as a man, was definately not as upset by the news, but equally as disappointed. He had already guessed, having walked past F's room and seeing the door shut with the two of us talking, that something serious was going on.

Little over an hour later I took the letter into F, but she had more to say. She'd been speaking to the Dark One (the chief executive) and they'd both agreed that they didn't want to lose me. But, they didn't really have much of an idea how to keep me. On the salary basis, I explained what I'd be getting in my new job and F believed they could match it. But, she didn't think they could match the benefits. She suggested moving more towards formalities (with an associated pay rise of up to £10-15k) but it's not really the direction I want to be heading in. They'd thought of adding extra duties around IT liasion which would ceratinly be interesting, but didn't really have an idea of what they'd want done or what they'd be trying to achieve. It also seemed clear that they didn't have a too much of an idea of how IT deparments tend to function outside of the company. The problems they feel we're facing seem to me to be general problems with any IT system, and not necessarily specific to the company, and whilst I believe I could be of some use in that area, my lack of 'real' IT experience would probably render it a non-starter in terms of expanding my role. Other than that, while they were open to ideas on how to expand my role, they didn't really have any ideas on how to go about doing so themselves, and I can't really think of anything myself. In terms of what I'd want to do within the company, I would look at becoming PA to the CEO. It seems to me that her role has the right mix of duties, and the excitement of being higher up the ranks and really someone that can help in the day to day workings of the company rather than just another cog in the machine. However, a role like that would be impossible to create within the London office.

I also pointed out that being a very small office (at least within London), I would be very wary of stepping on people's toes in the pursuit of my own career progression. In terms of stepping over people, I feel it's easier to do so in a larger company, where there are more people competing for progression, better jobs and better pay packets. Although I'm not supposed to know (and won't detail how I do), I know about E's mini-promotion and was somewhat put out that it went to her without even consideration for myself. Even despite the fact that I wouldn't want her extra duties, turning her more into a host/secretary rather than just a secretary. What I do know though, is any progression on my part would put bad blood between us, and in an office over less than 20 people, bad blood is not a good way to work.

Apparently E already harbours negative feelings towards me because of the autonomy in the way I work; that I can pick something (technically simple) up that hasn't been touched by an attorney and have it pretty much ready to go to its relevant patent office before being seen by someone qualified; that I so quickly tuned in to the way each individual person works (even those that I don't work for) that I can pull out necessary jobs to take off their hands; even just that I generally work quickly and don't mess around in getting things done. In making myself indipensible to some people I've raised the game among the secretaries in the office, I'#ve made it that much more difficult for others to excel.

At that point, we left it that I would think about things overnight. But it hasn't taken me that long to come to a conclusion.

Regardless of how the company would manage to expand my duties, the novelty wouldn't last. I master things too easily, and get bored even more easily. It seems that in six to twelve months, maybe more, maybe less, I would outgrow those duties and we'd be back to square one again. There can only be so many times that we would go through the process before running out of ideas and new ways of keeping me happy and in one place. At this point it doesn't seem fair either to myself or to the company to keep on in that manner. At some point I would inevitably be ready to leave again, at which point they would be left with a role that would be difficult to fill, having been tailored to a specific person and that person's need. Instead, in leaving them now, I leave them with a post that's standard and easier to fill. And as for me, I think in leaving now, I can move into a role where I can grow with the company and train in ways I wouldn't be able to in my current or 'grown' position.

The good, the bad and the saggy boobs

So yesterday I went off to the hospital for my first appointment to see about getting a breast reduction. In the letters they sent to organise and confirm the appointment, they had wonderful leaflets telling me how I'd see everyone I needed to, get all the relevant tests done and get adate for my operation all in the one afternoon. Be prepared to spend half a day with us, it said.

I rushed out of work, grabbed lunch to eat on the run (slightly difficult when you pick a salad and they forget to give you a fork) and headed into the delights of the tube. They were surprisingly on time in the hospital and I couldn't wait to find out when I'd get the op done.

I was called in to an examination room, poked and prodded by the nurse, asked a few questions and then told the bad news. There is no funding for reductions at the hospital. They have to get my doctor to refer my case to the PCT to see if they'll fund it. If they do, then I go back for another appointment and the whole thing starts again. Worse still, it can take up to 18 months for the PCT to hear my case and make a decision, and after that it's on to the operation waiting list, with probably another six months to wait. Up to two years seems interminable. On the plus side, 18 months is a probably worst case scenario for the funding decision, and apparently the time on waiting lists is going down. Not much consolation when you were led to believe you would get an op date that day.

Birthday Dilemmas

- Mummy, what are these.
- They're the invitations for your birthday party.
- Oh. I don't want Alex to come to my birthday.
- Why not?
- Because he's too small. He's too small so he can't come.
- What about Alexander?
- He can come, he's big like me.
- But not Alex?
- No.

Luckily for Alex, I had no such reservations when writing the invitations, and TB will have forgotten this all by tomorrow.

Bagpipes

If you're currently in the queue of traffic on the west end of High Holborn you're being treated to the sound of bagpipes.

This is why.

Today WeightWatchers told me they'd noticed I'd had a bit of a [weight] gain. For the record, my scales say I haven't gained any weight this week. I haven't lost any either, but that's a different matter entirely.

Every week I weigh myself, at the same time, under the same conditions, and enter my weight into the weight tracker. It's rare that the tracker has anything positive to say. If I've lost weight the site usually feels it's too much in one go. If I gain weight it'll happily tell me, it must be my fault and I must be doing something wrong. If there's no change, again I must be doing something wrong. I'm not measuring portions properly is the stock excuse. I need to go back and reassess. Apparently there's no reason the plan shouldn't work exactly as expected, and the results, well they're expected as well. If my progress doesn't meet expectations, well that's my fault. And as for today's apparent gain, well there must be am explanation, and it's probably my fault.

What the site doesn't take into account is that these comments aren't always helpful. When every day is a struggle just to eat at the right time, regardless of sticking to the plan, every bit of encouragement is more than welcome. I don't need to be told I'm doing something wrong, I know I am. If I wasn't, I wouldn't be struggling like this. What I really need is congratulations on the small successes, even if it's only maintaining my weight when I've had a bad week. What I really need is some support.

Windmills and Warships

Yesterday we went up to Wimbledon Common, mainly to see the windmill, but it was such a nice day anyway that it was worth going for the walk. Tommy loved the chance to run free, and it was great to let him, to be able to tell him to run ahead without having to worry about the cars on the road. We looked at horses, dogs, birds and tried to spot foxes and snakes (although luckily for me, we didn't see a single slithery thing). We chased each others' shadows and ran around like kids (or at least I did, TB already has the excuse).

Inside the museum TB was facinated with the models of various UK windmills, and loved pressing various buttons to make each one work. He got the chance to see how the millstones grind grain into flour, and even got a bag of flour to take home after he'd helped to make it.

Today we headed up to London Bridge to look around the HMS Belfast. Before we'd even left the house, TB was so excited about the thought of going in the ship he'd only ever looked at in the past.

You're given the option of taking their audio tour headsets, and as there was a kids one, decided to give it a go. As you go around the ship, signs tell you the number to enter into the headset for the relevant description. Of course TB loved typing in the numbers and making the commentary play.

As well as seeing all the best bits of the ship, they had a kids activity today, and TB and I sat and made a peg sailor whilst Yuri wandered round the engines.

And of course, it was a tiring day for all of us (you try running around a warship chasing after an over-excited 3 year old), but maybe some more than others.

And now to the guilt

This is the first job I'm leaving where I've not been desperate to go. Don't get me wrong, I'm ready to leave. I've outgrown the job itself, and the only prospect for growth would take me in a direction I don't wish to travel. But I'm not itching to leave. While I'm not enjoying the job particularly, I do like working with the (majority of the) people. And I'll miss them once I've gone.

But this hasn't made it easy to find a new job. Every call I've taken, every email I've read or sent has shot guilt through me. I think they've known, even for much longer than I have, that my leaving would be on the cards. Every reference ever made to the chance I could go has been met with feelings that they'd never cope. I know they've come to rely on me over time, and that they're used to having someone who knows their style so well that they can just fill in the massive gaps that get left. I guess it'll be hard to find someone who can just pick that up from day one.

So I do feel guilty about leaving, even if it is time. Although I have my offer, I know it's not worth the risk of resigning until I have the papers in my hand. In any event, it should give
Them five weeks before I leave. I feel guilty that I can't give them longer, to help them out for that little bit more time.

So, for the next weeks, instead of doing everything possible to avoid doing or being at work, I'll be the best I've ever been, making sure I've done everything possible to help them carry on as usual once I've left.

Jobs and Guilt

Today I went for a second interview at a top ten, magic circle law firm (lets call it X). To be doing that, at this particular time, is definitely more than I'd planned, so perhaps I should tell the story.

After mum kindly offered to finance the necessary items for a new interview wardrobe and the remaining amount on my season ticket loan, I amended the previous version of my CV and got spousal, parental and sibling approval on it. I uploaded it to a job site and intended to forget about it for at least a few weeks whilst showing my colleagues that I did know how to dress suitably for a day in the office. When said job site sent an advert to my mailbox offering a free CV review service, I thought why not? They offered to upload my CV and details to a few more job sites and I agreed, once again intending to forget about things for a few weeks. Despite their email appearing on a Saturday morning, the CV review service didn't work on weekends (or evenings, for that matter), I opted for a weekday call back and didn't expect to hear anything more.

The next day I received a call from an agency who had found my CV on one of the job sites that I'd been automatically registered with after signing up for the CV review. However, I wasn't interested, as although the job was in Putney, it was in real estate. Still, it was much more than I'd expected to hear, especially as I still hadn't applied for any jobs at this point.

The following morning I received another call from an agency who had seen my CV on the same job site as the previous one. They sounded much more enthusiastic than the last, even when I mentioned that I wasn't interested in staying in patents, and noted a few areas of law that I'd prefer to avoid. So I went to meet them that lunch time. Not only did I meet the person I had spoken to on the phone, I also met two other consultants, all of which gave me the feeling that they were working as a team, instead of fighting over which candidate and company they each "owned". Whilst I was there, we discussed two jobs they wanted to put me forward for: one for two of this firms most senior partners, but involving no case work and offering a very low salary, especially considering who the role entailed working for; the other for X. I initially had reservations, while the company sounded like an excellent choice, they were looking to fill a float role, and floating wasn't something I had considered. In fact, I would go as far as to say it was something I was looking to avoid. They mentioned salary, and I'll admit it wasn't precisely in the region I was thinking of, however that region was defined by reading job adverts in London Careers and not based on any CV-related advice I had received. Having been taken in by their spiel about how I didn't have to go forward for anything I didn't want to, attend an interview or accept any job I didn't want, I felt I should allow them to submit my CV and see what happened from there.

In the next few days I received two further calls from agencies who had also picked up my CV online, however neither of them sounded hopeful as they were both looking to patent secretaries, a role I was most definitely avoiding.

A day later I received another call from the agency offering to put my CV forward for an IP litigation role paying more in the range I had been looking at. I asked them to go ahead, but after a few more days still hadn't heard anything further relating to any of the three roles they had put me forward for.

Just over two weeks after I had initially met with the agency, as I was starting to think that I may have been put to the bottom of a pile, I received a call from them. X had asked to interview me and would like to see me as soon as possible. That was Tuesday and I headed in for my interview on Thursday afternoon. Having met with the agency beforehand to discuss how things would work, I headed off to one of X's offices by Liverpool Street. Whilst the tests were somewhat unnerving (I am constantly paranoid about my typing whilst having no problem with grammar and accuracy tests) I passed them all and the interview at that point was plain sailing. I came out feeling positive and was happy to hear, within an hour, that a second interview was to be arranged the following week.

Over the next few days I had plenty of chance to examine how I felt about the role and the company thus far, and found my enthusiasm waning as the weekend progressed. Whilst I had no doubt that X would be a wonderful firm to work for, where I would receive incredible training and have some excellent opportunities, I was unconvinced as to whether I wanted to float, even if the progression from floating to fixed role was anticipated for the majority of people joining the team.

On Tuesday, as I arranged the interview, I made sure to request an early enough time so as to avoid taking further time off work for a role I was convinced I wouldn't take, even if it were to be offered. Despite this, I was still getting a little nervous last night. Even though I was sure I didn't want the job, and wouldn't accept it when I was offered it (I was that convinced that I would be), I still wanted to be offered it. I wanted to know that I could still manage to get a job offer (despite my incredibly shaky work history) and I wanted the security of knowing I could turn a job down.

So this morning I had the interview. I arrived at X's offices and was somewhat taken aback by the size and modern sense of grandeur of their offices. The interview went well and I was incredibly confident that I would get the job. I spoke to the agency and let them know that the interview had gone well and I was still interested. I also mentioned that I was somewhat unsure of the remuneration, especially in light of a speculative call I'd had with another agency yesterday evening that indicated I could easily be looking at 3-4k extra in a fixed role through them. The agency did their best not to be drawn in on this one, and reinforced the fact that I had yet to be offered the job and they would cross that bridge if and when they came to it. Even still, I remained confident and now knew I had laid down good foundations to refuse the job.

All was going to plan, except for the fact that I came to a few revelations about the job itself and my reasons for not wanting a role of that style. To be precise, I was and am scared. The very aspects of the job that I was using as my reasons for refusing any offer were down to fear of these issues. This fear was because the position is not a fixed one, there is frequent moving within the firm and often little chance to become comfortable in a placement. Each new placement comes with its new challenges and a whole new set of people to learn to work with. But, on trying to specify in my mind exactly what I did and didn't want from my next role, so I could be more specific as to what to look for, I realised that these were the things I have been missing out on in past jobs. I always, after a period of time, complain that I'm not being challenged, stretched, that every day is the same and I don't get the chance to learn new things, try different methods and see what works. I get bored and restless when I become too comfortable, and then things start to go downhill. Whilst I relish the chance of building solid, long-lasting relationships, I also know that I am not one for getting too close to my colleagues, so the opportunity to move around, even if infrequently at times, is one to be taken.

Within an hour or so I knew that the job was one I wanted, that despite my fears, I could conquer them, get myself known, and move up the ranks. I don't like to wait around; career development will not be a slow process.

Now the first set of issues had been resolved, the second set was more of a sticking point, that being, money. The money they were offering was 2-4k less than I'd envisaged achieving, and the agency, on discussing salary, had not seemed too hopeful of an increase in the salary offered. In addition, the benefits package may not be quite as extensive as some other major law firms in the city. The only person to discuss this one with was dad, so over lunch I trotted off to London Bridge for a coffee and some wise words. We worked out what I'd be missing out on, financially wise, if I were to accept the job, and thought about further prospects and whether they'd be better opportunities than this one. We ended up with happiness; would it be possible to achieve the level of happiness I thought I'd gain in the role if I were to find something elsewhere, and would I be able to increase my salary over time to compensate for the initial reduction in desired salary. In the end, having calculated what I'd actually be receiving each month, although the extra would be good, I just couldn't turn down the opportunities that were being offered.

However, there was one problem. I had yet to be offered the job.

I received a call from the agency mid-afternoon, but the news wasn't exactly what I had been hoping for. Unlike I had been led to believe, I wasn't the only person who was being considered from the role. But, X had drawn up a shortlist and were looking at the various packages and conditions the shortlisted were seeking. While I stated to the agency that I would prefer the higher end of the salary range, I eventually conceded and agreed that I would still be interested in the job if it were are the lower end of the scale. At this point I'd come so far in my thinking that I really didn't want to lose out.

The next half hour was nerve-wracking. Having been so sure that I would be offered the job, my confidence was suddenly failing me. By the time the agency called back, I was convinced that I had failed, and miserably at that. However I didn't. X offered me the job, at the higher end of the salary scale, and have provisionally agreed to my preferred start date (meaning that I shouldn't miss out on the bonus in my current job). It was rather difficult to wipe the grin off my face, but I had to. As they seem suspicious already, I can't afford to let the cat out of the bag at work until I have the papers in my hand.

I was going to mention guilt at this stage, but it's late, and I'm sure the world is bored of my ramblings for the moment. So for now I say goodnight, I shall broadcast again soon.

Earrings and Interviews

Tomorrow I have a second interview in a top ten law firm. Today I went over to the agency to prep.

Wearing my massive star-shaped earrings.

To say I gave them a shock might be an understatement. In fact the words reported to me were "she's not going to an interview wearing those is she?"

Now, to people you're only meeting for the third time, my choice of jewellery may seem a little loud. However, there are the people who credit me with being intelligent, smart and switched on, frequently, every time we speak or meet.

Do they honestly think I'm capable of those attributes and stupidity concurrently?

However they did give me a good indication of my chances (excellent, apparently) and a large handful of sweets.

Lunch

It's a simple thing, lunch. Every day, somewhere around midday, we sit to eat, something to take away the hunger that has grown since breakfast, something that will keep that hunger away until our evening meal. We all do it. It's simple.

But not for me.

Every lunch time is a challenge. What do I eat that won't be the start of the next binge. As a general rule, bread and pasta are off the menu. Nothing overly sweet, nothing that could be considered a snack. At the moment I'm on miso soup, a piece of fruit and a yogurt. It's safe. There's also points to consider; if it's low in points, there's less chance of a binge to follow. The more points I have stored, the greater the incentive to stay on track, the more control I feel I have over this. Control is good (despite the assertion of overeaters anonymous). When I am in control I am in a better position than when I'm consciously attempting to not be controlling.

My dilemma, today though, is lunch. Namely our late christmas lunch with our boss. For one reason or another (not many being my doing), I have managed to avoid it so far. But today that doesn't look possible. Todays it seems that I will have to do lunch. I don't know where we're going so I can't plan ahead, check the menu, work out the lowest point items. I can't see which foods are safe and which should be avoided. I am completely unprepared. I am getting more and more panicked since yesterday's announcement that today was the day. I thought of calling in sick, but it would only put it off, and I need to take too much time off at the moment anyway. So, for now I panic and worry.

London Stinks!

This morning, as I left the house, the only thought that was in my mind was that Wimbledon stinks. Literally.

This would be the reason why.

Missing child

TB have me the shock of my life earlier.

Having come out of the bathroom, I went to his room to see if he'd woken up. He wasn't there, so on my way to my room I glanced in the living room to see if he was there, which he wasn't. He wasn't in my room, or the kitchen, and when I checked the living room again he wasn't there.

I was waking Yuri up and getting incredibly panicked and worried when the boy sleepily emerged from the living room clutching tio and ammi.

He'd been crouching down, hidden by the table, looking for the toys he'd left there last night.

Blonde moment

I got rather worried yesterday when, with 20 minutes to the end of the day and a 15 minute tape to complete, my computer suddenly went blank. In fact, beyond blank. Completely dead.
I tried to get it to work, tried they keyboard, tried turning it on, checks all the cables were still plugged in. Nothing worked. IT's best suggestion was to unplug it, plug it back in and try again. Failing that, go home.

So I went to unplug the thing, only to find that in my kicking around to reach my pedal I'd kicked the power switch off.

Oops.

You know life's hard when...

...your Monday morning dilemma's about concealer.

Mine died on me this morning. With no warning whatsoever. I guessed it was coming to the end of it's life? We'd been friends for a long time.

The question is, do I quick with my trusty L'Oreal touche magique or switch to maybelline mousse? Which will cover my dark rings better? The ones that get worse with each passing day instead of bearing any relation to lack of sleep.

And while I'm at it, do I get a True Match Minerals compact or loose with brush?

From the mouth of a three year old...

"How many times have I told you...."

I think I'm in trouble.

Hello,

My name's Vic, and I'm a compulsive overeater. Food addict if you like.

Every day is a battle, one that I'm losing. Miserably.

Everywhere I turn, there are people trying to sabotage my progress, threatening the fine balance between abstinence and giving in. Cakes, sweets, biscuits at work. There's not just birthdays to celebrate, but the return from a holiday, an anniversary, a target, the end of a meeting, a just because. And I am not in enough control of my addiction to steer clear. 'Just one' is expected, but with this disease there is no such thing as 'just one'. 'Just one' is the start of a slippery slope. One that I can't navigate or leave with ease. 'Just one' becomes another, and one more. Until that one more becomes complete loss of control. Until I'm back to day zero. To the day before the beginning of abstinence.

The daily walk to and from work becomes a plethora of opportunities for the next fix. Every step is a new struggle not to step into yet another food-selling establishment. From the aromas littering the street to the people handing out free samples, everywhere I turn someone or something is trying to break me.

If I can get through the lunch break I'm half way there but the witching hour is yet to come. That dangerous combination of tiredness and hunger that slowly build, peaking as I make my way home past the shops and through the station. It's here where I'm most likely to falter, to fall. Here where I'm most likely to give in to the sugar and carbohydrate laden snacks.

One small trigger and it begins. The craving, the need for food becomes unimaginable, the only thing driving me on. Everything, every step, every thought is focussed on what and how to get the next thing to pass my lips. Nothing, not even fullness, sickness can stop me.

So at home we have a list of, what I call, banned substances; a number of foods that will trigger off an attack, often just by being in the house. The usual suspects are there: crisps, chocolate, sweets, biscuits, and some slightly less normal ones: rottisserie chicken, cheese, sliced meat, bread (although not sliced). On the whole, Yuri is generally quite good about not getting these things. Not all the time, but enough to make sure I don't constantly feel surrounded. But, having invited a house guest, he forgot to impart the 'rules' to her.

On getting home last might I found chicken and sliced cheese (much worse than a block which you at least have to take the time to cut from). There were chocolate biscuits from the day before, more biscuits and two large tubs of cream from the day before, something was going to have to give.

We have C staying with us and Yuri invited G to stay for dinner. So I cooked. TB was making excuses not to stay in bed and when I asked Yuri to sort him, he wanted me to do it, whilst cooking, despite the fact that he was chatting on msn. When I announced that dinner was ready I received next to no response from either C or G, and certainly no effort to leave their respective computers to get their food. It was enough to make me snap.

And in a plastic bag ended up a can of condensed milk, a jar of chocolate spread, a packet of gummy sweets, two packets of chocolate wafer biscuits, a packet of rich teas, two large pots of cream, a box of sliced cheese, a rottisserie chicken, half a tin of roses and half am easter egg, all to be hidden or thrown away. Because get I don't know it's in the house, I don't have to cling to a pillow with all my strength to stop myself from reaching for it, I don't find myself scratching away at my skin because I'm so agitated knowing it's there. Because, if it's not threatening me, I don't have to take valium to calm me down enough to sleep.

This train is now approaching its final destination,

London Waterloo. However, it may be quicker to exit through the front of the train and walk along the tracks. This is because trains are not permitted to exceed 2 mph on this stretch of track.

South West Trains like to call it an emergency speed restriction. I (and undoubtedly many other commuters) prefer to call it 'you've had two days to fix the problem and still haven't managed it.'
And we still have another four days of it after today.

Our Sunday

It's too noisy!

Today I forgot my iPod and remembered one of the reasons I'm usually 'plugged in' for the duration of my journey.

The sniffing, the coughing, the talking on mobile phones. The mumbling and grumbling and too loud music players. The conversations, the slurping, the munching, the announcements. On second thoughts, no conceivable volume could cut through an announcement on a South West train.

And this is why I listen to my iPod on my journey. With noise cancelling headphones.

And today's date is...

On flicking through my blogroll this morning I was very confused to see
that one of the blogs I regularly ready had changed. Rather
dramatically. Yellow. It took me more than a few moments to realise
that the world hadn't turned upside down, the hackers hadn't broken in,
and everything will be back to normal by tomorrow morning.

Cinthia is supposed to be arriving this evening. I really hope that's
not an April fool.

And I just attempted to put hand cream in my coffee instead of
sweetener. That's how frazzled my brain is after the stress of the last
week.