Sunday morning, I’ve had my coffee, caught up with the results overnight, and taken Rigby for a walk – this time up to Hampton street, and not to beach going the other way. When I finish up here I’ll continue on my Sunday morning ritual by making the cooked breakfast I can no longer afford to go out and buy. It’ll be poached eggs again – after much trial and error I’ve mastered the process. I’ll cook up some mushrooms with garlic and thyme, and serve all over some toasted Turkish bread.
I feel much more at home here than I ever did in East Bentleigh. I know Hampton. I’ve lived here before, and have friends close by (I had dinner at the Cheese’s last night). For the most part I feel more in tune with the locals here than in East Bentleigh. Upbringing and history moulds you, and I can walk down the street here and feel I’m among people I went to school with or have worked with. I’ve been to their dinner parties, had drinks with them on a Friday night. We know each other, and by and large have matured with similar aspirations, if not expectations.
I’m still settling in. Getting the internet connected finally goes a long way towards making this feel like home. Routines are returning, such as this, sitting before my PC and typing away to an unseen world – and giving more material to those interested. The rest of the day I’ll sort out a bit more of my unpacking – there are still things to do, and a good pair of Sennheiser headphones to find. I’ll cook, as I normally will, for the week ahead – today I’m making Cottage Pie. I’ll work on my book and then late in the day I’ll sit down to watch the footy. Tomorrow will be work again.
Work endures, as do I. It gives me no pleasure, and Monday’s are the hardest of all. I still think of it as being temporary, and strive hard to make it so. The lack of an internet connection has made it difficult to source and apply for jobs, but there have been the usual quiet opportunities that peter out into nothingness. I have applied for a job internally – permitted too finally. The job seems a good fit for me – experience of the industry, which I now have, combined with business analyst experience, which also I have, and presume few others do.
I never get too certain of these things. Nothing is meant to be, and even the perfect fit means fuck all in the weird world of recruitment. If I have a concern it is that I’ll be seen as too senior for the role. Even a standard BA role is below what my CV would suggest, but this is for an Associate BA – second banana. If I get it I’ll have to reign in my instincts.
Nonetheless I should at least be on the short list given a set of skills and experience they can only dream of. And being over-qualified shouldn’t be an issue – god knows I’m overqualified for answering phones. This is much closer to my profile. Applications close Friday.
Otherwise there are the usual struggles, and though occasionally I’m exasperated by them I endure okay thinking, knowing, that one day it will be different. Tight as it is my life has stabilised. I have a platform upon which to build, and talent and ambition to go further. I’m undaunted, which is perhaps the greatest thing to come out of all this. It’s been a shitstorm, but I’m coming through the other side, wounded, but not one whit diminished.