Thursday, I don't care about you
The Happy Job Saga continued on Tuesday with the arrival of the letter notifying me of the non-renewal of my contract. Which was nice, or rather not; even though I knew it was coming, it was still unpleasant in writing.
I'm writing this to avoid actually getting my head round the large task which I've inherited from my holidaying colleague. Procrastination is, of course, another of the less marketable skills I picked up at university. Or rather honed; it was in the genes all along. I'm sure the project would be quite manageable if I'd had control from the start, but getting my head round someone else's way of doing things is involving far too much effort for my taste. Plus, since I am now effectively working my notice, the small amount of motivation I ever had for this menial job has evaporated entirely.
Still, I have a free night tonight to eat takeaway and watch rubbish telly, so it's not all bad.
I'm writing this to avoid actually getting my head round the large task which I've inherited from my holidaying colleague. Procrastination is, of course, another of the less marketable skills I picked up at university. Or rather honed; it was in the genes all along. I'm sure the project would be quite manageable if I'd had control from the start, but getting my head round someone else's way of doing things is involving far too much effort for my taste. Plus, since I am now effectively working my notice, the small amount of motivation I ever had for this menial job has evaporated entirely.
Still, I have a free night tonight to eat takeaway and watch rubbish telly, so it's not all bad.
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