Unemployed

I'm jobless. It's a strange feeling. Walking out of the office for the last time. A strange feeling too. Every Friday, week after week, month after month, year after year, I've left saying "goodbye" to my colleagues, my friends, the people I spent the majority of my waking life with. "Have a good weekend." "See you Monday." But not tonight. An hour ago (at the time of writing, rather than typing) I left, desk cleared, security pass handed back. "Goodbye" was the same. But "Have a good life" followed, rather than platitudes about the weekend. And definitely no "See you on Monday".

The job wasn't bad. I enjoyed it, on the whole. I was good at it, had just been promoted, but that's not what I'll miss. It's the people. The people made it. The reason I stayed there for over ten years, I think, was the people. All the best wishes they gave me, all the thanks, the encouragement, the support. Sometimes I've wondered whether I'd be missed when I went, on a personal level rather than a professional one. It was easier to imagine I wouldn't be somehow. It makes it harder to think I might be.

Last night was my leaving drinks and I was struck by the turnout. So many people wanted to come and wish me well. It was a special night for me. The FD gave a touching speech and I was presented some gifts. It was all quite overwhelming. The company bought me a lovely, warm, waterproof Barbour jacket. Perfect for the winter I'll be facing in a few weeks. A whipround by my colleagues bought a really nice leather wallet (it's by quite a well-known designer supposedly) and the guys in my department bought me a book on the hidden rules of English behaviour and a Union flag keyring. As I say, overwhelming. They're all so lovely.

So, drinks by the river at the Horniman was enhanced by a balmy summer's evening and perfected by a curry to finish. I am going to miss those guys. I do hope that those that have threatened to come and visit make good on that.

It's been quite a week for goodbyes already, with the day-long pubathon to follow tomorrow too. This week saw our last fellowship group. Jo and I have really enjoyed getting to know all of the group better over the past ten months as we're studied God's Word together and supported one another in prayer and encouragement. I'm going to miss those guys too. They had arranged for a collage of photos of the Barge to be taken and all signed the back for us. I had forgotten how moving reading the comments, thoughts and best wishes from our guests at our wedding had been in the book Cath made for us had been until reading the card and comments on the photo on Wednesday. Everyone is so lovely.

I'm going to speak to my mum this weekend hopefully. Let's see if we can get Skype working. I'm only now beginning to realise how our decision to move to Nuzziland will affect my family too. I'd been oblivious before. For Joanne and I, it's our choice, it's us making the decision. It's not easy to emmigrate like this but it's our decision. My family are the ones who are still here. I wish I'd considered them sooner. I don't know what I would have done differently. I just wish I'd thought how it affects them. The change is being thrust upon them. They don't know when they're going to see us next either.

In other news, it seems out stuff is going to be shipped next week sometime. And six weeks later it will arrive in NZ. Add to that customs-clearing and by mid-September we may be able to get to our possessions, finally.

Oh, on the flat sale the buyer's solicitor has finally got the environmental report. So, fingers crossed, all being well, God willing, assuming it's the final objection and no other issues are raised we'll exchange contracts early next week and could complete before we go after all. Maybe. Whatever happens Clayton and Mel have said we're welcome at theirs anytime. See, everyone is lovely!