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The Meg;
THE sun shines its revealing light on hidden part of your chart. This helps you see what is working in your life and what needs to change so you can map out your future. You can tune into what goes on behind the scenes at work. The lunar eclipse will pinpoint the skills you never knew you had. Jupiter adds a celebrity flavour to your social life and Venus mixes a sexy mystery into your love life in a way you'll really enjoy. Well, looks like I shall find out things that I wasn't aware of, find out what's working in my life (right now? Bugger all), new skills, celebs in my life (I did see the singer from Go West in London - I hope that doesn't count) but wait...a sexy mystery. What's the mystery, the who it is, or the sex? So far Meg's not exactly come up trumps so I won't invest too much in this either.
June. Only 30 days to go before I am no longer employed by UoL. Puts things into perspective. Too much perspective.
Bloody payment cards...you have to put all your details into a site, then you have to put more details into the card's own site, only to get f'ing bounced by them. What's the point of having two lots of security checking, you chuffing idiots? Why make everything more complicated and painful than necessary, when the upshot is that people stop using things? Poor design. Don Norman would have a thing or two to say about that. Of course now I have to walk to the train station to buy my tickets just for the pleasure of having some lawyer give me a kicking tomorrow. Someone sang, 'Some guys have all the luck'. They appear to certainly have mine. So the month rolls on like an enormous road-roller and the office gets emptier and emptier, as does any semlance of interest in anything that isn't packed in a box and stuck in a crate. If it all burned my insurance wouldn't cover it but at least I could start again. Maybe I'd become a Belieber.
Goodbye drinks. Different groups tend to mix like goose fat and wine and then I get stressed because I am not sure if everybody is having an ok time. Presumably that's not my responsibility, people should make sure I'm having a chuffing good time. Which I did, apart from the stressing about other people. Nice people came along, some unexpected, some travelled far. That's nice. Reassuring too. Technically I'm only in 3 more days as it's conference time next week, then there's a private case and forensic work the week after. So, 2 Mondays in the office, and then it's the 30th. Wow. What will I do once the flat's empty? Suppose I could bugger off early and go hang out somewhere. That sounds like a bit of plan. I honestly don't think that anyone will notice when I slip off into the sunshine and head south for a couple of weeks in Bath.
Tomorrow is submission day for Year 3s. I hope they'll be ok. Some very kind cards and bottles, although I don't do it for that. if I did it would hardly be worth it. There is something about giving people a bit of a helping hand in their futures and I hope that the small contribution I make is useful. But let's not get too teary about this. Again, they head off into the future and forget. I still remember Lawrence Warwick-Evans telling me that I was almost coherent. Nicest thing anyone ever said.
Ok, final box push from the office and then it's external examining, which is not looking at bodies, but checking marking. Arse. No special hotel time and being treated like you matter, got to do it up here because of the conference dates. Wouldn't miss the conference though, it should be a good time.
Conference was fabulous. Dinner on HMS Warrior, a beer, and being a living exemplar of a famous Dead Kennedys' song. The trip back was a total arse as I kept falling onto the table with a loud crack, probably to the amusement of the flight attendant opposite me. Actually, she was pretty sodding unempathic, hope she's not like that in flight or else turbulence would be no laughs with her airline. Saturday came far too soon and it was on The Tractor over to Harvey's to drop it off and a few kilos of leather. He assures me that he'll look after it. I also learned that 9 year old girls can be severely unimpressed if you forget their birthdays, even if you make a card for them. There's a girl who can throw daggers. Got horribly lost so Nottinghamshire is going to be a challenge as they hide all the places I am trying to find. Picked up by Dan & Mel, back to NW and food, Sunday, food, then chucking boxes in the Volvo for him to store.
Penultimate day and sorting out bills, cakes, jeeez, why not drag the whole leaving thing out. Thankfully tomorrow is a private assessment, Wednesday is clinical day, and Thursday really is the final day. Will celebrate by handing my card in and having a beer with Alan. That's how you say goodbye.
Private client didn't turn up, so a morning in Ellesmere Port was wasted. I expected that is always true. Anyway, today, Thursday, final day as an employee of this fine establishment. Have to hand in my card, keys, gun, and badge. I've never had to use my gun and it's so quiet here right now that I'm guessing today isn't going to be when I start. Unless I go on a spree, get up in the clock tower and take out the fat cats and then some random people before the law take me down. Unlike in the films and the songs there won't be a woman with a slight country accent screaming 'Billy!' as a hail of hot lead pins me to some plaster.
I should at this juncture point out that Meg was more right this month than previously. Some might say that it is coincidence, not me. Also I have proof that there is a Lynx effect. Angels don't exactly fall out of the sky, but they knock on your door when you're drunk, tired, and in your underpants and haven't cleaned your teeth. Best thing to do, I find, is to shoo them away because, if we're honest, no one wants to play canasta with a tired, drunk bloke in his pants who smells of stale beer.
So this is pretty much it until it pretty much isn't.
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