Barcelona, Job, Moving
So I've been busy. Sue me.
Spent last weekend in Barcelona, soaking up the Spanish sun while England was grey and dreary. Ah, August. One of my favourite months no matter where I am! The mediterranean was super salty and cleared out my sinuses nicely - the only downer on the weekend (apart from the company I was keeping but let's not go there) was the awful cold I succumbed to on Friday, and am only just starting to hardly notice now - a week later. So Barcelona included lots of rambling on the Ramblas, a few gazillion more freckles on my shoulders, tapas and gelati galore (it's best when it's so smooth it's like a paste), and marvelling at the oddness of La Sagrada Familia, Gaudi's insanely brilliant/just plain insane cathedral-in-the-making, and... um... well that's it really. I also spent a lot of time coughing and sneezing, but Barcelona didn't really make that special. Oh! That's right. It's really smelly. If only my sinuses had been fully blocked.
So, I was told by my boss a few weeks back (or one of the five I have... ah, matrix management is SOOO much fun!) that my replacement is to start on the 4th of September. One of my other bosses, who was in the room at the time - actually I think I was in the room and they were talking about the new person starting, but nevermind - says "So what happens to The Travelling Librarian then?", which I was quite pleased about, coz I was wondering the same thing. And the first boss says something along the lines of "Well, when the Replacement Librarian starts, the Travelling Librarian will have to go" and I was like, *shrug*, fine, I'm a temp after all, no worries, I'll just tart up the resume earlier than expected. So, I had a bit of a think about what I want to do, professionally, while I'm here in the Land of UK, and decided that in terms of my goals of wanting
a) to earn more money
b) experience I wouldn't get back home
c) to earn lots and lots of money
d) to work in an environment where I could conceivably trip over a member of the male gender that isn't another librarian (no offence guys, you're lovely, but few and far between), and
e) did I mention the whole money thing?
I decided that the best way to go would be to become a librarian in an investment bank. So I tarted my resume accordingly, stamping big black shiny pounds signs all over it, and listing every database I've ever used that has anything vaguely to do with Business on it. I picked the top 3 corporate information recruiters in London, and sent it off.
Well, it seemed to work because within a week I'd had a fair bit of interest. AND THEN, OF COURSE, manager number one comes to me and says "You know, Travelling Librarian, we're really happy with the work you're doing here at the Poncey Public Library [link removed because the people I work with are lovely, its a really great service and most of the patrons are fine - you just get quite a few poncey ones], and we'd really love you to stay until October."
"Gee, Boss Number One" I replied "that sounds great, because I really do love what I'm doing here. But you should know, I thought I was leaving at the beginning of September so I've already sent out my resume." (And, sidebar, if I get offered a few pounds more an hour I'm gonna take it. I do have to keep myself in shoes, you know. This stylish coordination thing I have going on doesn't magically happen!)
"Oh, that's fine, Travelling Librarian. Just give us a week's notice if you find something."
So, low and behold, I got an interview with an investment bank. A big one. They're not the best in the world for holding other people's money and making the chocolate of the smoothy creamy goodness, but they had a reputation for taking that which did not belong to them in the dubya dubya two, if you get my drift. Glottal stop.
So anyhoo, to cut a potentially long and therefore typing intensive story short, I rocked up to the interview, after Barcelona, and doped up on all the paracetamol and cold and flu tablets that my body could handle, and attempted to smile through the fog. Apparently my sparkling personality, desire to no longer be bored, ridiculous enthusiasm for getting my hands on databases that cost gazillions of smackeroos to sully (Datastream, Reuters, Bloomberg... oh, bestill!), and masochistic desire to work for a bunch of wallies who want "25 annual reports, an indepth study into the potential market for toothpicks in Guatamala, and an industry overview of cocoa beans covered in chocolate - dark, not the milky kind mind you - on my desk by this time YESTERDAY" shone through the over-the-counter induced haze in which I'd surrounded myself to brave the London public transport system, and I got the job!
Well, when I say I got the job, I've been offered it, and I have accepted. HOWEVER as I will be working in "the city" (read: square mile, read: financial services), they need to get five years of reference, credit and residential checks on me. And, as I spent the last five years, minus the last 4 or so months, in Australia, I don't think that's going to be as fast as they want it to be. And, because I learnt my lesson when I dealt with the Evil Empire earlier this year, I refuse to give notice at my current job until I know for SURE that I've passed the security check. So... we wait.
But if it all goes according to plan, I will be
a) earning more money
b) called the Travelling Researcher (not quite the same ring, is it?)
c) attempting to trip over the odd investment banker on my way to the Starbucks for my skinny lemon poppyseed muffin (seriously, don't try them, they're ADDICTIVE - must be the opium)
d) gainfully employed, hopefully for the rest of my visa (it's an ongoing contract), and
e) I mentioned the money, yeah?
Okay, so that's enough about that for now.
Onto my last item for discussion (this has taken way longer than I wanted it to and I'm sleepy): I'm moving. The house I'm currently in has been great, but it's a bit above my current level of cash flow - in fact, even in my new job it would probably be above my level of cash flow, considering the amount of travelling I'd like to do while I'm here. And a good friend of mine offered me a bed when it came up at her place, so I'm going to try the "share a room" concept that is so popular with cash-strapped antipodeans in the Land of UK. At least for a while. So I won't be sending an email with my postal address and phone number (the mobile hasn't changed and hopefully won't if the bloody carphone warehouse gets their finger out and ports my number like I told them to TWO WEEKS AGO) because it could change again in a couple of months. So, if you're desperate to send me some snail mail, email me and ask me for my current mailing address.
Alright sports racers, I should hit the hay.
So until next time, Librarian out.
Spent last weekend in Barcelona, soaking up the Spanish sun while England was grey and dreary. Ah, August. One of my favourite months no matter where I am! The mediterranean was super salty and cleared out my sinuses nicely - the only downer on the weekend (apart from the company I was keeping but let's not go there) was the awful cold I succumbed to on Friday, and am only just starting to hardly notice now - a week later. So Barcelona included lots of rambling on the Ramblas, a few gazillion more freckles on my shoulders, tapas and gelati galore (it's best when it's so smooth it's like a paste), and marvelling at the oddness of La Sagrada Familia, Gaudi's insanely brilliant/just plain insane cathedral-in-the-making, and... um... well that's it really. I also spent a lot of time coughing and sneezing, but Barcelona didn't really make that special. Oh! That's right. It's really smelly. If only my sinuses had been fully blocked.
So, I was told by my boss a few weeks back (or one of the five I have... ah, matrix management is SOOO much fun!) that my replacement is to start on the 4th of September. One of my other bosses, who was in the room at the time - actually I think I was in the room and they were talking about the new person starting, but nevermind - says "So what happens to The Travelling Librarian then?", which I was quite pleased about, coz I was wondering the same thing. And the first boss says something along the lines of "Well, when the Replacement Librarian starts, the Travelling Librarian will have to go" and I was like, *shrug*, fine, I'm a temp after all, no worries, I'll just tart up the resume earlier than expected. So, I had a bit of a think about what I want to do, professionally, while I'm here in the Land of UK, and decided that in terms of my goals of wanting
a) to earn more money
b) experience I wouldn't get back home
c) to earn lots and lots of money
d) to work in an environment where I could conceivably trip over a member of the male gender that isn't another librarian (no offence guys, you're lovely, but few and far between), and
e) did I mention the whole money thing?
I decided that the best way to go would be to become a librarian in an investment bank. So I tarted my resume accordingly, stamping big black shiny pounds signs all over it, and listing every database I've ever used that has anything vaguely to do with Business on it. I picked the top 3 corporate information recruiters in London, and sent it off.
Well, it seemed to work because within a week I'd had a fair bit of interest. AND THEN, OF COURSE, manager number one comes to me and says "You know, Travelling Librarian, we're really happy with the work you're doing here at the Poncey Public Library [link removed because the people I work with are lovely, its a really great service and most of the patrons are fine - you just get quite a few poncey ones], and we'd really love you to stay until October."
"Gee, Boss Number One" I replied "that sounds great, because I really do love what I'm doing here. But you should know, I thought I was leaving at the beginning of September so I've already sent out my resume." (And, sidebar, if I get offered a few pounds more an hour I'm gonna take it. I do have to keep myself in shoes, you know. This stylish coordination thing I have going on doesn't magically happen!)
"Oh, that's fine, Travelling Librarian. Just give us a week's notice if you find something."
So, low and behold, I got an interview with an investment bank. A big one. They're not the best in the world for holding other people's money and making the chocolate of the smoothy creamy goodness, but they had a reputation for taking that which did not belong to them in the dubya dubya two, if you get my drift. Glottal stop.
So anyhoo, to cut a potentially long and therefore typing intensive story short, I rocked up to the interview, after Barcelona, and doped up on all the paracetamol and cold and flu tablets that my body could handle, and attempted to smile through the fog. Apparently my sparkling personality, desire to no longer be bored, ridiculous enthusiasm for getting my hands on databases that cost gazillions of smackeroos to sully (Datastream, Reuters, Bloomberg... oh, bestill!), and masochistic desire to work for a bunch of wallies who want "25 annual reports, an indepth study into the potential market for toothpicks in Guatamala, and an industry overview of cocoa beans covered in chocolate - dark, not the milky kind mind you - on my desk by this time YESTERDAY" shone through the over-the-counter induced haze in which I'd surrounded myself to brave the London public transport system, and I got the job!
Well, when I say I got the job, I've been offered it, and I have accepted. HOWEVER as I will be working in "the city" (read: square mile, read: financial services), they need to get five years of reference, credit and residential checks on me. And, as I spent the last five years, minus the last 4 or so months, in Australia, I don't think that's going to be as fast as they want it to be. And, because I learnt my lesson when I dealt with the Evil Empire earlier this year, I refuse to give notice at my current job until I know for SURE that I've passed the security check. So... we wait.
But if it all goes according to plan, I will be
a) earning more money
b) called the Travelling Researcher (not quite the same ring, is it?)
c) attempting to trip over the odd investment banker on my way to the Starbucks for my skinny lemon poppyseed muffin (seriously, don't try them, they're ADDICTIVE - must be the opium)
d) gainfully employed, hopefully for the rest of my visa (it's an ongoing contract), and
e) I mentioned the money, yeah?
Okay, so that's enough about that for now.
Onto my last item for discussion (this has taken way longer than I wanted it to and I'm sleepy): I'm moving. The house I'm currently in has been great, but it's a bit above my current level of cash flow - in fact, even in my new job it would probably be above my level of cash flow, considering the amount of travelling I'd like to do while I'm here. And a good friend of mine offered me a bed when it came up at her place, so I'm going to try the "share a room" concept that is so popular with cash-strapped antipodeans in the Land of UK. At least for a while. So I won't be sending an email with my postal address and phone number (the mobile hasn't changed and hopefully won't if the bloody carphone warehouse gets their finger out and ports my number like I told them to TWO WEEKS AGO) because it could change again in a couple of months. So, if you're desperate to send me some snail mail, email me and ask me for my current mailing address.
Alright sports racers, I should hit the hay.
So until next time, Librarian out.
posted by NomesD at 9:58 pm
2 comments
