For anyone who read my previous blog, I'm still sitting in the corner waiting for the bell to begin round 3!
For those who haven't read it .. then please read it and come right back, I'm not going anywhere.
In fact, that is pretty much my predicament - I don't seem to be going anywhere in a hurry right now. My job is in limbo while the powers that be decide my fate. It's a bit of an ordeal I suppose, but life goes on and the world still turns.
I've got a hot date with a paintbrush every night this week, as we continue to redecorate the house. With new flooring due in soon, there is an added sense of urgency to get it done. My wife is continuing to astound me with her application and dedication to the task, very much the Yin to my Yang ... and that's not a euphemism, gutter-dwellers.
A lot of people spend their hard-earned cash on nights out getting boozed and dancing in nightclubs, but I suggest there is a new way: stay home and decorate, get dizzy on paint fumes while listening to the radio! No need for a cab home afterwards either.
While I'm in this limbo waiting for my job to be sorted out one way or the other, I can't really plan anything. My wife and I are desperate for a family holiday somewhere, but we just can't do anything until we know whether I'm unemployed or secure for another few months. It's a predicament that sadly too many people are suffering right now, as the clouds gather over the economy and doom-mongers fill the media with their foreboding.
My answer to this is ... cricket.
Yes - that relatively gentle sport recently dragged into the crosshairs of terrorists in Pakistan, but still ultimately in my opinion a sport that is good for the soul. At the moment it is only net practices once a week until the season starts at the end of April, but already it has lifted me and given me a nice thrill of anticipation.
Cricket is undoubtedly an English sport in spirit (and in its archaic rules), yet people from all of the cricket-playing nations bring their own interpretation and approach. Everything about this diversity makes cricket a broadening and uplifting experience. From West Indian exuberance, Australian bravado, and Indian silky skills to Kiwi dibbly-dobbliness, it all makes for a fascinating mix and some very interesting contests.
My own local cricket team is primarily composed of Englishmen, with a smattering of Kiwi ingenuity and sub-continental wizardry. Our matches are all friendlies, usually 40 overs or "timed", depending on the preference of the opposition. Match days often bring a loyal following of friends and family, who provide invaluable moral support as well as organising the afternoon tea and drinks (for home games).
The atmosphere at these matches is always jovial, with a constant background noise of banter and bad puns. Combined with the edginess of a sporting contest at its heart, it is an enriching experience for everyone involved.
While the season is yet to start, the very anticipation of it starting soon is enough to banish the gloomy clouds about the world at large from my mind.
Even here in limbo.
Monday, 9 March 2009
Monday, 2 March 2009
The Wrestler .. not starring Mickey Rourke (or his dog)
There are days when you feel in control - you are the one deciding your destiny.
Then there are days like today, where I am in the hands of fate - subject to factors beyond my control.
Today (hopefully) I should find out whether I still have a job or not beyond 31st March. As an IT contractor this is not an uncommon situation to be in, however the current economic climate has hit the Financial IT contract market very hard, so the chances of finding another job are low ... making the stakes higher than ever.
It's complicated, so I'm going to use the totally unrelated metaphor of a Wrestling match to try and explain my situation:
- The wrestling match is the "Keeping Doug in a Job" tag-team title fight. I currently hold the Championship Belt ("The Job"), which is sponsored by my recruitment agency.
- The referee in the centre of the ring is the company I am working for.
- In my corner (as my trainer/number one supporter) is my comically Gallic line manager from Paris. My boss likes me - hell, he even thinks I am performing my role to a high standard! He wants to keep me in the role, he says.
- On my tag team is my existing recruitment agency, who would like to keep me in the role too.
- In the other corner is a supply agency that the referee secretly wants to win the match.
The bell rings for round one!
I step out of the corner to start the fight. A millisecond later I'm hit in the back of the head by a towel as my boss throws it in. "As we’ve not been able to change your contract into a contract of service due to the contract restriction with the recruitment agency, an RFP has been submitted on the market!" he shouts in support.
As I stagger sideways, he follows up: "We’ll need to take into account a hand over period which I expect as soon as possible and will require your full participation on it!" He then shouts out to the supply agency in the other corner: "Hey! Got any decent wrestlers over there?"
But there is no immediate answer - the supply agency in the other corner has just landed a low blow on the recruitment agency. "Uurrgghh! Supply agency talk next round. Supply agency busy discussing recruitment agency's exclusion clause!"
The company referee stands to one side, thoughtfully tapping away at a calculator muttering words like "headcount", "budget costs" and "merde".
I stagger back to my corner and throw the towel back at my boss. "I thought you were on my side!"
He grins sheepishly: "I’m sorry about this inconvenience it generates for you and the level of service in the UK as it has nothing to do with the level of performance you are providing which I’m very satisfied with!"
"I remain anyway at your disposal if you think about any arrangement we could find before the deadline!" he says with a collossal Gallic shrug, before scuttling away to sit behind the supply agency's corner.
The bell rings to end round one, and I collapse in my corner as my bloodied recruitment agency team-mate crawls across the canvas to join me.
"Doug, I can't win this fight. The judges have already written the script for this one, but there might be a way that you can still win it .... "
The bell rings for round 2.
My boss hoots his support for the massive supply agency, as it lunges forwards grasping for my Championship Belt.
"Hold it!" I shout, holding the Belt at arm's length.
"You know, there is a way we can all win this fight. All of us."
The lumbering supply agency stops, then snorts in confusion. It looks at the ref, who shrugs indifferently.
"You want the belt, right?" I say, holding it up. The supply agency replies sneeringly "Supply Agency get Belt anyway! Supply agency not care!"
"Now here's the deal" I begin. "In return for getting your name on the Belt and keeping me on the team, you only have to pay half the exclusion clause to my recruitment agency."
There is a shaky thumbs-up from the recruitment agency hanging onto the ropes.
"And!" I continue, "the company keeps me in the job which makes them happy too. Right boss?" I point to him as he waves to the audience.
"Oh! Mais oui! Of course - I'm right behind you Doug!" he shouts from the supply agency's corner opposite me.
The bell rings to end round 2, and as we retreat to our corners the supply agency turns back. "Urrggghh. Supply agency think hard. Supply agency make proposal to referee in round 3!"
And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is the dramatic climax at which I stand today - poised to return to the fight in round 3.
I figure I can come out of this fight in one of two ways. Either bloodied yet unbowed, like Mickey Rourke.
Or like his dog. 'Nuff said.
Then there are days like today, where I am in the hands of fate - subject to factors beyond my control.
Today (hopefully) I should find out whether I still have a job or not beyond 31st March. As an IT contractor this is not an uncommon situation to be in, however the current economic climate has hit the Financial IT contract market very hard, so the chances of finding another job are low ... making the stakes higher than ever.
It's complicated, so I'm going to use the totally unrelated metaphor of a Wrestling match to try and explain my situation:
- The wrestling match is the "Keeping Doug in a Job" tag-team title fight. I currently hold the Championship Belt ("The Job"), which is sponsored by my recruitment agency.
- The referee in the centre of the ring is the company I am working for.
- In my corner (as my trainer/number one supporter) is my comically Gallic line manager from Paris. My boss likes me - hell, he even thinks I am performing my role to a high standard! He wants to keep me in the role, he says.
- On my tag team is my existing recruitment agency, who would like to keep me in the role too.
- In the other corner is a supply agency that the referee secretly wants to win the match.
The bell rings for round one!
I step out of the corner to start the fight. A millisecond later I'm hit in the back of the head by a towel as my boss throws it in. "As we’ve not been able to change your contract into a contract of service due to the contract restriction with the recruitment agency, an RFP has been submitted on the market!" he shouts in support.
As I stagger sideways, he follows up: "We’ll need to take into account a hand over period which I expect as soon as possible and will require your full participation on it!" He then shouts out to the supply agency in the other corner: "Hey! Got any decent wrestlers over there?"
But there is no immediate answer - the supply agency in the other corner has just landed a low blow on the recruitment agency. "Uurrgghh! Supply agency talk next round. Supply agency busy discussing recruitment agency's exclusion clause!"
The company referee stands to one side, thoughtfully tapping away at a calculator muttering words like "headcount", "budget costs" and "merde".
I stagger back to my corner and throw the towel back at my boss. "I thought you were on my side!"
He grins sheepishly: "I’m sorry about this inconvenience it generates for you and the level of service in the UK as it has nothing to do with the level of performance you are providing which I’m very satisfied with!"
"I remain anyway at your disposal if you think about any arrangement we could find before the deadline!" he says with a collossal Gallic shrug, before scuttling away to sit behind the supply agency's corner.
The bell rings to end round one, and I collapse in my corner as my bloodied recruitment agency team-mate crawls across the canvas to join me.
"Doug, I can't win this fight. The judges have already written the script for this one, but there might be a way that you can still win it .... "
The bell rings for round 2.
My boss hoots his support for the massive supply agency, as it lunges forwards grasping for my Championship Belt.
"Hold it!" I shout, holding the Belt at arm's length.
"You know, there is a way we can all win this fight. All of us."
The lumbering supply agency stops, then snorts in confusion. It looks at the ref, who shrugs indifferently.
"You want the belt, right?" I say, holding it up. The supply agency replies sneeringly "Supply Agency get Belt anyway! Supply agency not care!"
"Now here's the deal" I begin. "In return for getting your name on the Belt and keeping me on the team, you only have to pay half the exclusion clause to my recruitment agency."
There is a shaky thumbs-up from the recruitment agency hanging onto the ropes.
"And!" I continue, "the company keeps me in the job which makes them happy too. Right boss?" I point to him as he waves to the audience.
"Oh! Mais oui! Of course - I'm right behind you Doug!" he shouts from the supply agency's corner opposite me.
The bell rings to end round 2, and as we retreat to our corners the supply agency turns back. "Urrggghh. Supply agency think hard. Supply agency make proposal to referee in round 3!"
And that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is the dramatic climax at which I stand today - poised to return to the fight in round 3.
I figure I can come out of this fight in one of two ways. Either bloodied yet unbowed, like Mickey Rourke.
Or like his dog. 'Nuff said.
Friday, 27 February 2009
A blog for my birthday
I think turning 38 has given me one of those "everyone has a novel in them" moments, where I felt it was time I tried to do something mildly creative. OK, so a blog is hardly War & Peace but we've all got to start somewhere.
My premise is a simple one - the view from the rollercoaster. I think that's a fairly succinct perspective of my life, especially over the last 10 years or so. It is an endless series of peaks and troughs, of moves and changes. This doesn't make me unique of course, arguably everybody's lives are the same too, so why write about it?
I guess I just want to try and make some sense of it, and try to inject a little bit of humour as I go along. If this entertains someone else or makes them think, then all the better.
So as I sit here at my desk, concentrating hard on not doing any work whilst partly hungover from the night before (and partly drunk from the lunchtime just gone), I look out over my little corner of London searching for inspiration.
If only something interesting would happen. Maybe one of those 200 animal rights protestors outside who are chanting slogans and shaking their fists at my window might have some suggestions. Like "How to brush your teeth with twigs" or something. Or perhaps one of the many police escorts surrounding them has a bright idea - "My top 10 truncheon-themed double-entendres", for instance.
(Sigh)It's so hard to find inspiration in this cultural desert!
In such a moment of creative crisis, I have to fall back on the only subject I know well... ME! Yup, it's all about me folks. For those who don't want to know the gory details, look away now.
I'm 38 today. How do I feel? Over-tired. Hung over. Well-fed.
More broadly speaking, I feel like I'm about to rise up from one of those troughs - the rollercoaster is definitely climbing. To paraphrase Ian Dury - here are my "Reasons to be Cheerful":
- I'm on the cusp of securing a 12 month contract renewal, which is gold dust in the current climate.
- Renovations have just been completed on my house, transforming the quality of life for me and my family.
- I'm going home to enjoy a birthday dinner with my wife and some friends, and then a family weekend playing with the kids.
- The sun has even come out today and I've seen blue sky for the first time in weeks.
The animal rights protestors have moved on now, black cabs are streaming past outside and the office is quiet as people start sloping off early for the weekend. That strikes me as a sensible idea, perhaps I should head off too. In fact, it would be rude not to.
My premise is a simple one - the view from the rollercoaster. I think that's a fairly succinct perspective of my life, especially over the last 10 years or so. It is an endless series of peaks and troughs, of moves and changes. This doesn't make me unique of course, arguably everybody's lives are the same too, so why write about it?
I guess I just want to try and make some sense of it, and try to inject a little bit of humour as I go along. If this entertains someone else or makes them think, then all the better.
So as I sit here at my desk, concentrating hard on not doing any work whilst partly hungover from the night before (and partly drunk from the lunchtime just gone), I look out over my little corner of London searching for inspiration.
If only something interesting would happen. Maybe one of those 200 animal rights protestors outside who are chanting slogans and shaking their fists at my window might have some suggestions. Like "How to brush your teeth with twigs" or something. Or perhaps one of the many police escorts surrounding them has a bright idea - "My top 10 truncheon-themed double-entendres", for instance.
(Sigh)It's so hard to find inspiration in this cultural desert!
In such a moment of creative crisis, I have to fall back on the only subject I know well... ME! Yup, it's all about me folks. For those who don't want to know the gory details, look away now.
I'm 38 today. How do I feel? Over-tired. Hung over. Well-fed.
More broadly speaking, I feel like I'm about to rise up from one of those troughs - the rollercoaster is definitely climbing. To paraphrase Ian Dury - here are my "Reasons to be Cheerful":
- I'm on the cusp of securing a 12 month contract renewal, which is gold dust in the current climate.
- Renovations have just been completed on my house, transforming the quality of life for me and my family.
- I'm going home to enjoy a birthday dinner with my wife and some friends, and then a family weekend playing with the kids.
- The sun has even come out today and I've seen blue sky for the first time in weeks.
The animal rights protestors have moved on now, black cabs are streaming past outside and the office is quiet as people start sloping off early for the weekend. That strikes me as a sensible idea, perhaps I should head off too. In fact, it would be rude not to.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)