Closing a chapter

Thursday morning, around 10am, if you'd seen me walking down Regent Street, I'm sure you would have decided I was just a little bit unhinged.

You see, at 9.30am precisely, I handed my boss my letter of resignation. I managed to just about suppress my joy until I walked away.

Ten minutes later, I skipped merrily out of the office on a photo shoot, grinning from ear to ear. It felt amazing. I felt liberated and like a weight had been lifted from me. Suddenly, I was no longer frowning, no longer preoccupied with what the bullies thought of me, or what their next move was going to be.

I'd seized back the power, while maintaining the upper hand. I refrained from expanding on my reasons for leaving, was careful not to burn any bridges. But inside, I wanted to hurl petrol bombs at those bridges, I wanted to destroy ever last timber, smash every brick. But I didn't. I was gracious and serene in my resignation. I even refrained from hurling petty insults.

Instead I shall trust in karma. I'm pretty sure my resignation sent a big enough message, and if it didn't, I'm past caring. I'm outta there! 

In exactly 1 month, I'll start my new job with a new company. It's the same type of role, but a much nicer working environment, fewer bullies (i.e. none) and more grown-ups (so fewer strops, tantrums and general childish behaviour - I get enough of that at home).

My smile lasted all day, only enhanced by a lovely trip on the London Eye. *sigh* Photo shoots eh? It's a tough job, but somebody's got to do it.

A momentus decision

Last night, the husband and I had a bit of an epiphany.

We've been struggling since I went back to work to be honest and neither of us are happy in our jobs at the moment.

It's been a tough year healthwise with the husband in hospital for 2 months and all the worry that surrounded it. Then just when we were dusting ourselves off and getting back on our feet, Littler ended up in hospital. We're all back to full health now but I think those two episodes tipped us over the edge.

We've both been having a bit of a mid-30s crisis. We feel trapped. Our flat is too small and we need a bigger house but our jobs suck and we don't want to work longer hours, so how on earth were we going to afford a bigger mortgage?

Well, I think we made a decision last night. It won't happen overnight and it's going to take some major planning, saving and networking but at least we've taken the first step by making the decision.

*drumroll*

I think we're going to try and move back to Scotland.

Husband did some very rough calculations and it makes sense financially. It will mean a change of jobs for at least one of us, but being nearer family, having no mortgage (or a very small one) and maybe even being able to walk to work would be pretty darned good.

In theory, I could go freelance and work from home. So that would ease the pressure somewhat on the job front.

I'm rambling now, I know. But I need to write this down so we can start to visualise it and work towards making it reality.

No-one is suddenly going to give us huge payrises. We don't play the lottery. So we need to do something to turn our lives around. We have no firm ties to London and sort of ended up living here by accident. We didn't choose London, it sort of chose us....

So we bumbled along making the most of the situation, not really planning anything.

But now we have a goal. We're going to sketch out a 2 year plan and make it happen.

I'm excited and a little frightened but I also feel like a huge weight has been lifted from us. We can see a way out now.

We just need to work out the how. And save like crazy.

Home, not just for Christmas, but for good we hope

Home, where our boys can run the length of this beach every weekend if they wish

But it's all good!