Oh my fracking lord. I am utterly, ludicrously tired – so tired, in fact, that I couldn't see the computer screen without my glasses on. Normally I'm just about OK without them, edges are a little fuzzy and prolonged no-glasses-monitor-staring brings on a headache, but today it was a case of white-with-a-few-extra-colours in there somewhere.
Though also, people who are moving continents and having leaving beers, and cats who need injecting early so I can get to said leaving beers at a reasonable time, do not help either.
So. Mmm. The job is pootling along. The things I've been brought in to do (vague project management, rather than the promised dullness) aren't really happening yet so I've been chipping in with lots of HTML production and CMS work which is pretty dull and by Friday evening had turned my mouse hand into a mis-shapen claw. What's quite amusing is that even though I've been there a week, I already seem to be faster in the CMS than a number of existing team members: I've been called "a machine" and "scary". This is good because it confirms my innate awesomeness (and my natural modesty, clearly); this is bad because, well, I'm flesh and blood, not an HTML robot. Whatever. I can wear jeans to work and there's a subsidised chocolate machine with Crunchies less than 15 metres from my desk so it's not all bad.
It's so not all bad that I think I might try this contracting lark for the longish term. I spent my last Thursday and Friday of freedom wandering around various parts of London, gathering bookshop stuff for Londonist, enjoying the sunshine, having lunch in a Notting Hill pub where they played Fleet Foxes, exploring Holland Park and meeting the peacocks, and making some brilliant coat discoveries in a Kensington Church Street charity shop.
This is the kind of stuff I moved to London to do. Wander. Explore. Discover. There are so many fantastic parts to this city and during the week is the perfect time to make use of them. So here's my plan. Contracting pays more than a permanent job because of the uncertainty and lack of benefits. If I can work two/three month contracts with several weeks in between I should still make the kind of money I need to be comfortable and have more time off than I would in a 'normal' job – with the added bonus of accruing holiday pay if I work via agencies – and be free to admit to my other 'work' for Londonist and spend lunch hours writing. Obviously, this all hangs on being able to get regular work… but we'll see how it goes over the next year.
I'm quite excited about this plan. Freedom, flexibility. Who knows, I might even start freelance writing again if I can brush up my networking skills (read: get some). It's a little bit like having an open vista before me, just waiting to be explored. Exploration again. It's clearly a theme. And I cannot remember being happier.
I just need to get some sleep.