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'My Corduroyed Life' - Mark A's Journal
Mad, eh?
I've been promoted at work!
Well, sort of promoted. A colleague has moved on to pastures new (We're already missing you Em, if you're reading this), and I've been asked to cover a number of responsibilities from her role until Christmas. Why not advertise a replacement? Well, that's the snag. Our project (http://www.careers.salford.ac.uk/gradgate/) is funded by the European Social Fund (http://www.esf.gov.uk/), which means that we only get funding on a yearly basis and all staff members have temporary contracts until December (which will be renewed in Jan if we get funding). This means by the time it's advertised and all the petty Salford University beurocrisy has been waded through, the newly appointed would only get about a week in the role were the project to close (We've been told that if our project does end, we'll be redeployed elsewhere in the Uni, which is good I guess). The other snag? Because it's a cover type situation, not a permanent thing, I'm not getting the salary increase immediately: I'm getting an honorarium in January. Considering how expensive November and December are, with various Roleplay Pub Meets and Christmas celebrations*, I could have done with the money immediately. Ah well...
Have fun,
M
* I use the work Christmas to describe non-religious 'festivities' around the period of late Dec to early Jan.
Current mood: Woozy (see next post).
Current music: Dance and Dense Denso by Molotov.
I think the title says it all...
Ever since the weekend, I have had an excruciating headache, accompanied by unpleasant light-headedness and needing like 20 hours sleep every day, with a side salad of my body feeling extremely weak, with it all garnished nicely by a frequent hacking cough that furthers the pain of the headaches. Tony has been an absolute star and looked after me and mothered me like... um... a mum. He must have strong feelings for me if he can cope with (more) whiney, feely sorrow for yourself, OTT pathetic, ill Mark.
It's actually a really annoying illness. If I have a big sleep, I can get up and feel okay (I emphasise *okay*, it's nothing like better) for a couple of hours and actually do stuff, but then I descend back into pain, weakness and pathetic feeling sorry for myselfness.
I loathe being ill. And the most bitter pill to swallow (d'you like that? the injection of illness metaphors? I iz ded cleva) is that I was supposed to be starting my new role at work on Monday. This is SO bollocks.
Have fun (like I'm not),
M
Current mood: Woozy.
Current music: Three Doors by Vast.