Ten years asleep in the queue for the late night bus
This idea was stolen from ailbhe. What was I doing...
On 18th June 2003, I was grumbling about Sainbury's
I was working in a small, but rapidly-expanding, company in Reading where a lot of my friends also worked. Seven of us trundled over from Oxford every day, taking it in turns to drive in two cars.
I was living in a shared house, with hendybear and Frances. Various of my university friends had just moved to London, including ChrisC, and I was spending a lot of time visiting there. I was going to a lot of gigs with ChrisC and Jamie, stopping overnight in London and generally hurling myself up and down the motorways of south-east England in my battered, recently-acquired £100 red Peugeot (whom I called William). Being in two dance teams filled up the rest of the weekends, although the local one was struggling for numbers.
On 18th June 2008, I was er... grumbling about Sainbury's again
I was living in a kind of limbo, because the company I worked for was suffering from a very uncertain future. It took months and months to resolve and (although I didn't know it yet) I'd end up with several temp jobs to tide me over before things were back to normal.
I was still living in the same shared house in Oxford with Frances, though I think HendyBear was only a nominal resident by then. I was still spending a lot of time on motorways (now in a blue Vauxhall called Johnson), commuting backwards and forwards to work and down to London to see ChrisC (by now my boyfriend of several years standing). I was spending very little time at home, but I don't think ChrisC and I had yet begun to discuss the idea of living together.
Being in two dance teams filled up the rest of the weekends.
18th June 2011
It seems I wrote no LJ entries for the whole of June '11. I think that must have been around the time interest in LJ was starting to drop off, and I hadn't yet launched my determined campaign to remain here, waffling away at the void.
I'd been living in Ealing with ChrisC for around 18 months, and enjoying it a lot. The paperwork for the sale still wasn't finalised, due to our inadvertently using the least competent solicitor in West London. However our flat was lovely and we were learning about the things grown-ups are supposed to do when they own a flat. We spent a lot more time at home or in our local area, straying into central London a lot less frequently than when I visited his shared flat.
Work was seeming on a reasonably even keel, and we had nice offices on a plushy business park with nicely landscaped gardens and a lake. I was pleased to have swapped my daily drive for a walk + train + cycle commute, even though the new one was slightly longer than the old.
Being in two dance teams filled up most of the rest of the weekends; Mabel (the local Oxfordshire side) was just getting over the massive stress and effort of organising the annual rapper dancing competition in Oxford.
On 18th June 2012, I was saying even less of import than usual.
ChrisC and I were still living in our flat in Ealing, and were delighted that about a fortnight previously the paperwork from the (October 2009) flat sale had finally been completed. If you're looking for a solicitor, I have one I can highly disrecommend.
Work was continuing to seem on a reasonably even keel. We'd moved to new offices on the university campus.
Being in two dance teams filled up some of the rest of the weekends. Mabel were struggling to get their act together in all kinds of ways, and the other team (Boojum) was suffering increasingly from illness and injury of members.
Yesterday, I was belatedly writing up a gig from over a week earlier.
I caught the train to work; we're still on a reasonably even keel, with a few new recruits, and still in the offices on the university campus. I went to a yoga class on the way home to the Ealing flat, had dinner with ChrisC, and then we pored over the Glastonbury Clashfinder trying to puzzle out which bands we want to see.
I did some laundry, washing my kit from my weekend away dancing with Boojum in Skipton. The team is carrying on, although everyone continues to get older and more injured, and one member is now quite seriously ill.
Today, I was still writing my belated catch-up posts.
I caught the train to work, rather later than intended because I failed at getting out of bed. Mabel practice is cancelled tonight, due to lack of bodies; once again, we're on a bare-minimum five regularly practising members. (Anyone local fancy trying rapper?) We're all off to Evesham this weekend to dance at the Morris weekend there.
On arriving home this evening, I thought I'd give the whole domestic goddess thing a whirl and have chocolate muffins baking by the time ChrisC got home for tea. Sadly, a real domestic goddess would doubtless have remembered that the local domestic god had used up the last egg making Yorkshires on Sunday. I am not destined for deity.
In a year's time, I expect we'll still be living in the same flat. I hope still to be working for the same company. I'm not an ambitious person, career-wise. I've always enjoyed my job, I like my colleagues; if the company's still standing, I imagine I'll still be here. I hope that some time over the next 12 months, one of my short stories will find itself a home and be published.
In five year's time... I have no idea. I've never really had a life-plan. I don't think I'd find it surprising if things were very much the same.
In the pipe-dream category, perhaps my company will have finally been sold for wads of cash and I will be rolling in the profits of my employee share options. Perhaps I will have finally bestirred myself to get on with writing that novel and sold it to massive acclaim. But I think I'd settle pretty happily for "very much the same".
On 18th June 2003, I was grumbling about Sainbury's
I was working in a small, but rapidly-expanding, company in Reading where a lot of my friends also worked. Seven of us trundled over from Oxford every day, taking it in turns to drive in two cars.
I was living in a shared house, with hendybear and Frances. Various of my university friends had just moved to London, including ChrisC, and I was spending a lot of time visiting there. I was going to a lot of gigs with ChrisC and Jamie, stopping overnight in London and generally hurling myself up and down the motorways of south-east England in my battered, recently-acquired £100 red Peugeot (whom I called William). Being in two dance teams filled up the rest of the weekends, although the local one was struggling for numbers.
On 18th June 2008, I was er... grumbling about Sainbury's again
I was living in a kind of limbo, because the company I worked for was suffering from a very uncertain future. It took months and months to resolve and (although I didn't know it yet) I'd end up with several temp jobs to tide me over before things were back to normal.
I was still living in the same shared house in Oxford with Frances, though I think HendyBear was only a nominal resident by then. I was still spending a lot of time on motorways (now in a blue Vauxhall called Johnson), commuting backwards and forwards to work and down to London to see ChrisC (by now my boyfriend of several years standing). I was spending very little time at home, but I don't think ChrisC and I had yet begun to discuss the idea of living together.
Being in two dance teams filled up the rest of the weekends.
18th June 2011
It seems I wrote no LJ entries for the whole of June '11. I think that must have been around the time interest in LJ was starting to drop off, and I hadn't yet launched my determined campaign to remain here, waffling away at the void.
I'd been living in Ealing with ChrisC for around 18 months, and enjoying it a lot. The paperwork for the sale still wasn't finalised, due to our inadvertently using the least competent solicitor in West London. However our flat was lovely and we were learning about the things grown-ups are supposed to do when they own a flat. We spent a lot more time at home or in our local area, straying into central London a lot less frequently than when I visited his shared flat.
Work was seeming on a reasonably even keel, and we had nice offices on a plushy business park with nicely landscaped gardens and a lake. I was pleased to have swapped my daily drive for a walk + train + cycle commute, even though the new one was slightly longer than the old.
Being in two dance teams filled up most of the rest of the weekends; Mabel (the local Oxfordshire side) was just getting over the massive stress and effort of organising the annual rapper dancing competition in Oxford.
On 18th June 2012, I was saying even less of import than usual.
ChrisC and I were still living in our flat in Ealing, and were delighted that about a fortnight previously the paperwork from the (October 2009) flat sale had finally been completed. If you're looking for a solicitor, I have one I can highly disrecommend.
Work was continuing to seem on a reasonably even keel. We'd moved to new offices on the university campus.
Being in two dance teams filled up some of the rest of the weekends. Mabel were struggling to get their act together in all kinds of ways, and the other team (Boojum) was suffering increasingly from illness and injury of members.
Yesterday, I was belatedly writing up a gig from over a week earlier.
I caught the train to work; we're still on a reasonably even keel, with a few new recruits, and still in the offices on the university campus. I went to a yoga class on the way home to the Ealing flat, had dinner with ChrisC, and then we pored over the Glastonbury Clashfinder trying to puzzle out which bands we want to see.
I did some laundry, washing my kit from my weekend away dancing with Boojum in Skipton. The team is carrying on, although everyone continues to get older and more injured, and one member is now quite seriously ill.
Today, I was still writing my belated catch-up posts.
I caught the train to work, rather later than intended because I failed at getting out of bed. Mabel practice is cancelled tonight, due to lack of bodies; once again, we're on a bare-minimum five regularly practising members. (Anyone local fancy trying rapper?) We're all off to Evesham this weekend to dance at the Morris weekend there.
On arriving home this evening, I thought I'd give the whole domestic goddess thing a whirl and have chocolate muffins baking by the time ChrisC got home for tea. Sadly, a real domestic goddess would doubtless have remembered that the local domestic god had used up the last egg making Yorkshires on Sunday. I am not destined for deity.
In a year's time, I expect we'll still be living in the same flat. I hope still to be working for the same company. I'm not an ambitious person, career-wise. I've always enjoyed my job, I like my colleagues; if the company's still standing, I imagine I'll still be here. I hope that some time over the next 12 months, one of my short stories will find itself a home and be published.
In five year's time... I have no idea. I've never really had a life-plan. I don't think I'd find it surprising if things were very much the same.
In the pipe-dream category, perhaps my company will have finally been sold for wads of cash and I will be rolling in the profits of my employee share options. Perhaps I will have finally bestirred myself to get on with writing that novel and sold it to massive acclaim. But I think I'd settle pretty happily for "very much the same".