Savings etc.

I know Zee, I haven't forgotten about my five influential books. I'm getting there, I promise!

Nick sold his motorbike last week, which I thought, at first, was a silly idea. It's a mean, powerful, sports bike, that's wicked fast and super exhilarating - if you like feeling as though you'll die any moment - and perfect for the upcoming summer months. He worked his butt off to get it, and is still paying it off now, plus he only used it for one summer; in my eyes, he hadn't finished having fun on it and I was certain he'd regret selling it so soon.

Now though, I'm thinking it was actually a rather good idea! He lucked out on another bike that, to cut a long story short, will only set him back the cost of registering it as a UK vehicle. Which means he now has £4,000 in savings! Woah! We could literally leave for Australia now if we wanted - which we most certainly do, but won't. Because we've got our plan and we're sticking to it! The more savings we can get, the better chances we have of making everything work for us. I've heard quite a few stories, actually, of people that have gone out there with the minimal amount of money, thinking it sounds a lot ($5000), when in actual fact, when thinking of the cost of living, is only going to sustain you so long. If we want to be able to enjoy ourselves for a little while and adventure about a bit, every penny helps.

Nick's also in high spirits because his savings are exceeding mine, competitive little freak. But it's ok, I'll catch up. Not only that, but I aim to be at a certain level within Herbalife by the time we go, so I'm still getting a small income whilst travelling.

To be fair, the thing I'm happiest about is the fact that I enjoy riding on the bike with Nick again. I'd forgotten what it felt like to not fear for my life, or constantly be working to stay on the bike after every corner - seriously, that thing was better than the gym! - and I couldn't remember what the mile straight looked like because I've had my eyes closed for the last year! I no longer have to crap my pants every time we pull up to a red light, because the damn thing had so much power I never knew if Nick would wheelie or not. It was that lack of safety, or trust in the bike, that really took the enjoyment out of it for me. Don't get me wrong, it was an amazingly exciting bike, but not well suited for a pillion. The new bike reminds me of when we first met and we'd ride around for the fun of it, and I was happy just to hold on tight and watch the world rush by. 

This day, next year... I'll be in my last week of work. Holy shit, I'll be unemployed for the first time since I was sixteen. I'll actually be leaving my store, I won't be a manager anymore, and it'll belong to someone else. They better take good care of it!

Conference Revelations

One of the issues about leaving the country, for good, is that I actually have quite a good job that I genuinely enjoy.

Whilst Nick has a job that he worked his butt off (sometimes for free) to get to, I don't think it's fully satisfying for him. He often comes home tired, grumpy, moaning about some person or some thing that continually pisses him off. Admittedly, some of them to me seem petty, or funny - the one that really gets me is the accountant who washed his Mac keyboard in the sink. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, we have reached a new level of stupid here. His bonus scheme stinks, too. However, I do remember being in a job I hated and all those niggly things just build up and up until they just eat away at you. So I think, for him, Australia is a fantastic alternative to job searching over here. At least he has a trade that's in demand and fairly well paid.

Now I don't mean to brag, but I've always been the highest earning one in our relationship and that's a status I'm a little wary of losing. No, wait, let me rephrase that - I'm wary of being paid less than Nick; I'm more than fine with being on par. I don't mean this in a competitive, belittling, or feminist way at all, it's just I've always been so independent with money that the thought of not having enough of my own concerns me. I don't like the fact that I may contribute less to the rent, or food or petrol, or that I might need to ask for money at some point to get me by. I know that Nick wouldn't be bothered - I know I'm not at the moment - but it would make me feel so awkward and needy. I'm sure there's some psychological explanation about fending for myself at an early age, or being management and therefore a control freak or whatever, but, y'know, I'd just like to be able to pay my way.

I was thinking about all of this at my works conference. I work in fashion retail, so we dress pretty, go up to head office, look at all the new stock, find out how the business is getting on and drink champagne. Lovely day! And it's always at the conference that I sit and think, 'Wow! There is so much growth in this company, so many opportunities, that in five years time I could be anywhere!'. Which is probably very true, and who knows? Maybe in ten years time I could be an area manager (international, of course!), with my own company credit card and shiny company car - I'd finally have an Audi! - but then again, I might not. There are some managers who have been in the company for 28 years. Woah! The thought of another 28 Christmas sales makes me want to bolt right this second.

It only takes me a few minutes of thinking to realise that my prospects for moving country far outweigh my prospects of staying. It's a whole fresh start, I could be anything I wanted! I am swaying towards conservation and working with animals - 'You can do that in England!' I hear you say. Well, yes, I could. But I'd be giving up a decent job to go and volunteer to scoop poo in a country that is almost constantly cold, without any qualifications to bump me up the ladder. I know I'd be in the same position in Oz, just a whole lot warmer, but that wouldn't matter, because we're going there to travel, and explore, and do new things.

The point is that, yes, I would miss my job and I'd miss being in a form of employment that I know and am good at. But what if I'm even better at feeding koala bears?

This day next year... we'll be getting our jabs sorted. Ouch!