Seeing as I'm apparently unemployable (a fair bit a self-deprecation is only to be expected at this point), we're off to Plan B*. Sinéad and I have found ourselves a sweet little house to rent "up north". Technically we'll be living in Bradford, but the mere name seems to send a shiver up the spines of even the hardiest southern brits, so we like to say "Leeds" or "near Shipley". Goes over much better and you get fewer sympathetic looks.
We're moving up at the end of September and have many fingers crossed that there will be some sort of positive job activity before that time. Still, it would seem that the temping market is bustling so we shouldn't have many worries about paying for our existence. So there you have it, the decision made. What began as a winsome discussion in mid-June has transformed into our hiring a medium-size and booking out the local for a big farewell bash.
For all them Yanks that still owe me a visit (Rachel, Edie, Robbie, Alison, Tara, Karen, the list really does go on and go...) look at flying into Leeds-Bradford or Manchester rather than London. Come and explore the Dales or join us on a wee wander to Hebden Bridge, which is apparently the lesbian capital of the north. On our brief sojourn, I will say that there were some wandering about the place, but no more than you might see at Victoria Station in London.
Stay tuned for all the trials and tribulations of job hunting and crap temp work... again. But not until after the 27th... until then I've got a mad social calendar (all them goodbyes) and a week in the South of France, watching Jo's ever-expanding belly.
*see previous post
Related Links:
Bradford
Yorkshire Dales
Lesbians swap Birks for Wellies (apparently)
