I had to get phone numbers for my NHS employers for my pending NYC job. When I was on the Queen Elizabeth Hospital website the job vacancy tab was calling me….
Yes, I clicked on it and found a posting for a Lead Nurse, Infection Prevention and Control, band 8b. I was previously a Band 6 and would have been demoted to Band 5.
I feel like a slut for checking out the job description, person specification and application. It doesn’t pay as much as my NYC job but I could easily live in my little 2 bed semi detached house on the salary range.
This evening I got an email from my potential lover:
Recently you started to apply for the following vacancy on NHS Jobs:
Application reference: AR-119-644-967
Job reference: 304-004512
Job title: Lead Nurse Infection Prevention and Control
Organisation: University Hospitals Birmingham NHS Foundation Trust
Hold me back
I have lived in upstate New York, it’s lovely. Small mountains and lakes and winding country roads
This is my dream house
wouldn’t you just love to join me on the porch for some iced tea or a beer with a BBQ smell in the air?
I have a new roof, I’m still not clear how we got here but I would say my very organized daughter and a persistent sales team have something to do with it. Left to me, it wouldn’t have have replaced until it was leaking on my bed.
But here we are. The roofers were supposed to arrive this morning, Saturday, “between 7.30-8am”. Apparently the workers didn’t get that text because at 7.01am they were unloading their vans and the banging started by 7.45. The noise and banging has continued non-stop all day and it is now 7pm…almost done!
Around 9am the head honcho showed up to let us know the old, 80 year old roof needed an extra layer of plywood and a few other things which doubled the price. I find it hard to believe I (we) are paying thousands of dollars for something we won’t even see.
I bought some chocolates for the neighbors on either side to apologize for the noise.
somewhere across the pond, a little white house that has the most amazing sunsets
I’ve been thinking a lot about this little house lately. Now that it is rented and almost all the repairs and renovations are done it is no longer a “problem”. It is for the time being, something that I can enjoy thinking about in terms of its place in my future.
I wonder if I will ever live there again, if it will become an income for me
if when I retire or maybe I will sell it and put the proceeds towards that elusive dream I have been chasing my whole life~my til death do us part house.
It occurred to me that I have been paying on this house for nearly ten years, should be well into the principle of the mortgage…with a little effort I could speed that process up a little.
I am a “never say never” kind of person so who knows?
After walking around the harbour village we headed towards the house we lived in for the first 7 years of my sons life (before the shit hit the fan). As we turned down the street we lived on just a block from the house we heard dadumdadumdadumdadum…pulled over and found this
No clue how this happened, the tires are a month old! We couldn’t get the lugnuts off so I took advantage of the road side assistance that comes with my insurance.
It seemed like a surreal event that forced us to take a very slow walk down that familiar street. A street where we knew many neighbors. My best friend no longer lives there, in fact I doubt any of the people I knew still live there. When we got to the end, I turned to go back and my son said there’s a big park down behind these houses, I looked at him skeptically but as we walked around, sure enough there was the big park I took my kids to many, many times. I told my son I was impressed that he remembered that to which he replied…”I never forget anything”.
And there it is-the root of his anxiety and anguish…he doesn’t forget anything…mostly the bad and ugly. If only he could recite the details of the happy days as well as he can recall the agonizing detail of the not so great days.
Here’s a pic of the house we rented-it’s been bought and upgraded. My friend’s house looked small and uncared for. 23 years is a long time…