ADIOS COMMON FUND A1
Last Friday was my last day working for National Australia Trustees Ltd's Common Fund A1 (Hey! I'm no longer an employee so I get to give it this one plug, okay?), and I must admit that the change over to a new career path and job was more than a little intimidating - Even more so given the qualities of some of the people I was privileged to work with. They know who they are, even if libel laws and the International Convention on Human Rights (as well a several Papal Edicts) prevent me from spelling out precisely what those qualities were...
After becoming part of the team as a temporary employee in March 2001, and becoming a permanent employee the following August, it's been one of the constants in my life - so much so that I still can't look at my driver's licence without thinking, "There's 40 points worth of ID right there." I'm sure that with therapy (trans: Alcohol), time and reflection (trans: More alcohol!) I can perhaps make a full recovery... I think that quality time working out my Zombie Plan (with help from "The Zombie Survival Guide" by Max Brooks, and plenty of thanks to Sandhal @ NAT CFA1) will help.
In the mean time I'd like to apologise to anyone from the office who's reading this blog for leaving my desk in such a sorry state. After emptying out the accumulated clutter and crap of 7 years from my workstation and sorting through what could be recycled, what should be thrown out and what could be neatly nicked from the stationery cupboard (Whoops! Forget I said that, okay?) it was 6 o'clock and I had 30 minutes to get myself over to Footscray for pain and suffering. I know that you'll all be tickled pink to know that it hurt. Lots.
ONE ORDER OF "CULTURE SHOCK", EXTRA CRUNCHY
This Monday saw the beginning of my new role at Victoria University as a Student Support Officer... Whoo, what a change of pace! Almost all of my clients (I'm still in a customer service role) and a lot of my colleagues are young. Very young. I used to think that I was something like a redwood in the Common Fund, towering above pretty much everyone in sight whilst feeling well seasoned (and pretending to be mature). Now I feel like an inselberg, in as much as I'm tall, abrupt and ancient compared to the vast majority of everyone I meet each day. I kid you not, a lot of the students I'm helping out were born about the time I spent a lot of my time wagging high school.
FOOTSTEPS IN THE FUTURE
I'm going to hear the pitter-patter of tiny footsteps in the not too distant future. No, I'm bloody well NOT! fathering another child. I said "pitter-patter" and "tiny footsteps", not "thunderous stampede" and "drunken, epileptic water buffalo". The first turn of phrase gives the impression that there may be moments of peace and quiet. My offspring, on the other hand, wouldn't know how to be quiet even if you vacuum-sealed them in form-fitting steel cans and encased them in concrete. I know I said "Congratulations" to Sophie already, so this one's going out to the man who's taking the mad plunge into full-on fatherhood even after seeing my kids in action. Congratulations Stephen, you're a brave man... Insane perhaps, but brave without a doubt.
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Now playing: Tchaikovski - Piano Concerto No.1 in B Flat minor, Op.23 (Allegro non troppo e molto maestoso - Allegro con spirito)
via FoxyTunes
Last Friday was my last day working for National Australia Trustees Ltd's Common Fund A1 (Hey! I'm no longer an employee so I get to give it this one plug, okay?), and I must admit that the change over to a new career path and job was more than a little intimidating - Even more so given the qualities of some of the people I was privileged to work with. They know who they are, even if libel laws and the International Convention on Human Rights (as well a several Papal Edicts) prevent me from spelling out precisely what those qualities were...
After becoming part of the team as a temporary employee in March 2001, and becoming a permanent employee the following August, it's been one of the constants in my life - so much so that I still can't look at my driver's licence without thinking, "There's 40 points worth of ID right there." I'm sure that with therapy (trans: Alcohol), time and reflection (trans: More alcohol!) I can perhaps make a full recovery... I think that quality time working out my Zombie Plan (with help from "The Zombie Survival Guide" by Max Brooks, and plenty of thanks to Sandhal @ NAT CFA1) will help.
In the mean time I'd like to apologise to anyone from the office who's reading this blog for leaving my desk in such a sorry state. After emptying out the accumulated clutter and crap of 7 years from my workstation and sorting through what could be recycled, what should be thrown out and what could be neatly nicked from the stationery cupboard (Whoops! Forget I said that, okay?) it was 6 o'clock and I had 30 minutes to get myself over to Footscray for pain and suffering. I know that you'll all be tickled pink to know that it hurt. Lots.
ONE ORDER OF "CULTURE SHOCK", EXTRA CRUNCHY
This Monday saw the beginning of my new role at Victoria University as a Student Support Officer... Whoo, what a change of pace! Almost all of my clients (I'm still in a customer service role) and a lot of my colleagues are young. Very young. I used to think that I was something like a redwood in the Common Fund, towering above pretty much everyone in sight whilst feeling well seasoned (and pretending to be mature). Now I feel like an inselberg, in as much as I'm tall, abrupt and ancient compared to the vast majority of everyone I meet each day. I kid you not, a lot of the students I'm helping out were born about the time I spent a lot of my time wagging high school.
FOOTSTEPS IN THE FUTURE
I'm going to hear the pitter-patter of tiny footsteps in the not too distant future. No, I'm bloody well NOT! fathering another child. I said "pitter-patter" and "tiny footsteps", not "thunderous stampede" and "drunken, epileptic water buffalo". The first turn of phrase gives the impression that there may be moments of peace and quiet. My offspring, on the other hand, wouldn't know how to be quiet even if you vacuum-sealed them in form-fitting steel cans and encased them in concrete. I know I said "Congratulations" to Sophie already, so this one's going out to the man who's taking the mad plunge into full-on fatherhood even after seeing my kids in action. Congratulations Stephen, you're a brave man... Insane perhaps, but brave without a doubt.
----------------
Now playing: Tchaikovski - Piano Concerto No.1 in B Flat minor, Op.23 (Allegro non troppo e molto maestoso - Allegro con spirito)
via FoxyTunes
5 comments:
YAY!!! An update!!!!
And thankyou for the congrats - Steve said thanks, but he thought you were going to tell him something he didn't know ;)
p.s. am i the only person on earth who reads this?? And does that mean you write solely for my amusment???
Your wife a force of nature???? I thought she was GOD! (and its SO comforting to have her on my side)
You're not the only person who reads this blog. I have it on reliable authority that I also read it, although having written it I find it hard to catch myself unawares. I will continue, I may yet succeed.
Whoops, forgot to mention that I said that Jennie was like a force of NURTURE. Nature just isn't in the same league...
Sorry.. missed the nurture thing.. it was late after a long night in the ER to get an ultrasound of my gammy leg that showed nothing important... off to see the obstetrician tomorrow and hopefully coming home with a whole lot of preventative anti-coagulant!
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