Work Work Work

It’s been a busy old week, which pleases me greatly.

Out of the blue on Tuesday I got a call from one of my very first customers. He is a headmaster of a school, and all those months ago he promised me that when he got enough work in his school he would give me a call

And, at last, he did. I had started to think maybe he’d had enough of me and thought I was a bit of a joke, and had just said something nice to get rid of me.

But it seems, after all, that maybe I did a good job after all.

I’ve been there for the last two days now. It’s not exactly in a convenient location, requiring a two hour train journey to get there (even though it’s not that far away) but it’s been worth it. So far 12 hours of work, with a little hardware sales, and the prospect of at least a few more on Tuesday.

All good timing as it’s going to help make sure my cash reserves are in good shape for when the move comes.

Which is, at this point, scheduled for next Saturday. That’s scary. I’m looking forward to it, but the nerves about whether I’m potentially frittering away over £5,000 are now setting in. I’m also starting to think that maybe things are just about getting into shape around here at the very moment I’m abandoning it all to start again.

Very risky indeed. But, at the same time, I know I’ll be able to make a much better go of it in my new place. I should be able to build up the business much more quickly and get back to the same position I’m in now in a much quicker time. Fingers crossed anyway.

So next week is potentially my very last one here. Well, that’s rubbish, actually, because I know I’ll be back the following weekend to bring back more stuff and keep in touch with my other loyal customer (another school), which I’m going to on Monday.

But it’s still a significant emotional milestone. The end of the road for my life here. In all honesty, I can’t wait. That’s the way I’m feeling right now. I’m sick of my family, I have no friends here. I’ll have no friends there either, but at least my family won’t be getting in the way.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder, it seems. I think I need a good absence from them now. They don’t appreciate the contribution I make to this household, and I’m sure they’ll properly notice it once I’m gone. All I ask for is a little thanks, a little recognition. But no. Too much to ask for. That’s the way this family has always been; we don’t communicate. Even when I try to.

So I don’t bother any more.

And soon I won’t have to. The odd phonecall every week. That’ll do me fine.