Suddenly, I seem to be working all the hours that God sends.
It’s the old bus analogy: you wait months for a job, and then suddenly two come along at once. I’d taken a part-time job working at a local hotel, doing a bit of waitressing and housekeeping – something to get me out of the house meeting people and to bring in a bit of steady cash. So Graham and I had concentrated our house search on somewhere convenient for me to get to work and for him to get to the mountains.
We’d found a good little cottage in Dinas Mawddwy, and were all ready to phone up and tell them we’d take it, when I suddenly got a call from an old colleague who now publishes a magazine up further north in Wales – pretty much offering me a job on the spot. Hours to suit, as many as I could handle, doing what I really do best. And by the way, they were desperate, late with the mag, and needed somebody to start straightaway and work (more than) full time until Easter.
So I’ve suddenly gone from being pretty much a lady of leisure to having two jobs (though you’ll be relieved to know I’ve handed my notice in at the hotel). And we’ve gone from having made a decision on where to live to having to start looking all over again.
Looks like the days of lazing in bed with coffee and a dog in the morning are over…