Would you like to move to America?

I’ve just completed the first week of work at the horrible day job.

My retro floral dress with the giant skirt was a smash hit and my life now revolves around the next 11 Tuesdays because that’s the big dressing-up day when I deliver presentations to large audiences.

In every respect that I am not directly in control of, the job continued to be a huge pile of organisational fail. I am sitting at my desk at home right now, past midnight on the weekend, and I am doing what I would regard as admin and I am being paid admin wages to do it. I am terribly over-qualified for nearly all the things they want me to do, which strikes me as very poor use of my time and skills, and the things I’m qualified to do are things that the organisation does not have processes or even names for. I am frustrated and I do not see many opportunities here to advance my career, I like our customers a lot and I like the Terminator, but I don’t know if that’s enough.

Now for some ironic events.

Do you remember, on this very blog, about five years ago, I blogged about going to the Savoy for dinner. An elderly and rich lawyer who I met through OKCupid flew into London to take me to one of the world’s poshest hotels for chateaubriand.

Well, we have stayed in touch. He’s now 90 and beginning(!) to slow down. He would like a companion, as his age finally catches up with him. He’s just asked me if I would like to move to the north-eastern United States, move into his house, drive his car and conduct my business there. He can introduce me around to his lawyer friends and I can establish a local client base.

So there you go. My life is not boring, is it. There’s plenty going on. I am obviously thinking about it. I think I would like to get married if I am going to move that kind of distance.

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