It's More Difficult Than It Seems

Today has been tough for me in general - hell, this week has been tough. We've got sale starting, a new area manager to get used to, and I feel like I'm drowning in things to do, but today was hard.

It's this poxy song from Nickleback, I think it's called 'Photograph'? It's the Friends one, that they play for the last episode? I'm using it as the background song for a little farewell montage, but if it shuffles on my iPod... well, that's it. I burst into tears along the A13 this morning. Then, when I got into work, I saw someone's resignation taped to the noticeboard and phoned the solus store's manager - and cried down the phone to her too. It's hard being a manager sometimes.

I think some people assume that because it's us doing the leaving, that it must be easy; that we don't care, or can't love people enough to stay. That's not true. It's difficult beyond words, and here I go welling up again. I have to stop myself clinging on to family or friends longer than necessary, or crying uncontrollably every time I see them, because I know these casual moments can only last so long and there'll come a time where seeing my family will be a huge deal. I know that everyone will want to come to the airport and that's going to be incredibly hard. There'll be my Mamma, doing her best not to cry and getting a little red nose anyway, and my Nanna just blubbering away in the corner, and my Aunty Egg trying to hide the fact that she's leaking tears. Then there's everyone else giving death-grip hugs and I'll actually be an emotional wreck. On one hand, I don't want people to come to the airport so their lasting memory isn't of me balling my eyes out, but then I don't want to deny anyone, or myself, of that last hug. I do wish Australia wasn't quite such a long or expensive flight away.

I really want to write a little family post, so that when we go and I give them the link, they have a nice little thing to read, but I think I need to work up some courage for that one. 

On the plus side, the goodbyes will be behind us this time next year and the hardest bit will be over.

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!