I'm in Auckland, it's Guy Fawkes Night (sure, he tried to blow up Parliment, but seriously, GET OVER IT!. The Warehouse sells fireworks for God's sake!!!!!) And the air smells like gunpowder.
I have a new job. I'm a contractor. I no longer work in Christchurch. My former employer decided that my position was no longer necessary. Am I bitter? No. Here's why.
1. I've known for a year so it's not exactly news.
2. I didn't want to do that job anyway.
3. NZ has these lovely redundancy rules which give you (I kid you not) 4 weeks pay for the first year's employment, plus two weeks pay for each subsequent (including part) year's employment. I was there for 6+ years, you do the math. Plus I had 5 + weeks of vacation.
4. And, as I take pains to explain, it's my position that was disestablished, not me. I could have applied and obtained a job as a PM at the Uni but no, I thought not.
5. It still smells like gunpowder. Me like.
6. Of course, I'm working at another Uni. In Auckland. But I get a lot more money. And it's just until Christmas when we will revisit our relationship. In the meantime, I'm in an apartment. It's a studio. I have a view of the dockyards. And the smell of gunpowder. What's not to like?
7. The Kiwi is home. Keeping the homefires burning as it were. And working on a Master's degree. Placating the cats. Hillary Clinton was there today. Talking about resilience and stuff. We rock, us Cantabrians!!
8. I had to tell my parents last week what was going on with me. It was weird. They're like "what's new?" and I'm like "oh, you know, nothing. Lost my job. Got another one as well as 26 weeks pay". And how about those Giants?"
9. Still smellin' the powder and hearin' the noise. Lovin' it!
10. Probably all I'm going to say right now.
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