Spring sprang this weekend...

I heard a fantastic expression the other night. I reckon it rates up there with Who ate all the pies? The other night we were watching The Footy Show which is so jammed full of testosterone bloated ex-Aussie Rules footballers there is no room for high-brow.

They were looking at a photo of someone I forget now but one of the guys nonchalantly asks Who's been in the top paddock? I nearly cried laughing as images of fat cows in footy shorts, carefully chewing the best grass in the top paddock raced through my mind. I guess you had to be there.

Well I digress once again.

So sorry it has taken us so long to update this thing. Can't tell you how busy things get, then time passes and you have loads to tell and less time to tell it in! You know what I mean.

A quick snapshot of life in Melbourne at the moment. Ian moved on from his crisis of confidence with regards to his job and kindly hand balled it to me. I had a minor meltdown at work which, when it all came down to it, was pretty much the result of the woman I am replacing not being able to handle the leaving and the being replaced.

It was quite an awful moment in time where I was lied to and left to believe my performance to date was not up to scratch. When I scratched the surface [no pun intended] and sat my manager down over a coffee things were not as they first seemed. Needless to say things are moving along nicely, I have a better idea of what my role going forward entails and a lovely little salary up ahead.

We had a lovely long weekend at Point Addis at the beginning of August [see link to the lovely cottage in an earlier post - not yet worked out how to link to posts in my own blog!] and felt somewhat rested. That lasted all of ten minutes with the onrush of life, work and all the other stuff that seems to make me so bloody tired.

We've been out with mates for dinners and breakfasts. We had a lovely walk along the beach a couple of weekends ago, ending the perfect sunny day over a meal overlooking the beach at St Kilda - one of my favorite places in Melbourne.

We had our nephew, Dante over for his first official sleepover last Friday which was a blast. We then took the train to our other nephew, Harry's, 2nd birthday party. It was a family affair and a lovely day. The kids are just spectacular fun and keep us on our toes. Constantly.

I am presently waiting for a phone call from a friend I had not, until recently, seen for about 18 years. It has been fab catching up with old friends and filling in the years with our stories.

Someone asked me recently, if a book about my life was written, what would I title it? I thought about it for a moment and then just said It is all about the story really and proceeded to explain that our lives are a composite of lots and lots of stories. We tell stories to share who we are with others and we listen to other's stories to delve into and understand their lives and what makes them tick. So I guess my book would be called ... It is all about the stories....

The phone is ringing ... off to tell some stories.

Spectacular Underestimation

I have just read Ian's post.

Let me give you a bit of filler to plug the gap between Ian's interview and today.

When Ian heard about the job he told me he wasn't going to apply for it unless he was invited to. So, not only did the manager of the clinic make it quite clear he wanted Ian to apply, Ian's own manager made sure the message was clear; she would fully support his application.

Ian fretted, as one does before an interview but he hung in there. He pushed aside the negative and the fear and focused on the job and how much he wanted it. He even let me coach him on a few potential behavioural interview questions - albeit in the pub over a pint. Straight out of the interview he called me to say his first impression was that he thought he had done ok.

However, as the days passed Ian grew less and less convinced of his performance. No encouragement on my part could defuse the self-destructive exocet lodged somewhere behind Ian's left ear. By Monday night I wanted to detonate the bloody thing myself.

We hung in there together as the days rolled on with no news. Running parallel to us waiting to hear about the job was the fact that I thought I may be pregnant. Tension mounted as the days rolled along with the prospect of a long weekend by the ocean the only reprieve in sight.

This morning I did a pregnancy test which was negative. I was quietly devastated. The madness that surrounds the Am I or aren't I pregnant? question that I thought I had left behind came slamming back with such a force it left me gasping for air. I am okay now but the prospect of going through all this again is almost too much to contemplate right now. More on this when there is more to report.

So I left Ian at home this morning in the knowledge that he would find out about the job on Friday (tomorrow). We had had a great night at home last night as I discovered a curry house not far from us that delivers! We ordered big (or so we thought) as only deliveries over $30 were delivered free. When it arrived however we giggled like school girls when we saw that the naans were a third of the size of those we'd gorged on in England. And the rice portions were hilariously small. It was a good night and wonderful to hear Ian laugh.

Then, this morning at work I was running late for a meeting (that I had neglected to book a meeting room for but had at least managed to remember to pick up morning tea for!) my phone rang. I picked it up quickly as I saw that it was Ian. I explained that I was rushed but Ian managed to tell me that he had heard that he got the job. He seemed to be hovering somewhere between astounded and amazed. However, despite Ian's increasing self-doubt, I never, ever doubted he would get the job.

I am not one to air the family laundry so to speak, despite how open I can be. No, the trigger for this post is the line in Ian's earlier post where he wrote But... I reckon my referees must have done me proud!. I know that is partly Ian being a little self-deprecating but I wonder if somewhere, deep down, he really believes he can't possibly have had anything to do with getting the job?

Don't get me wrong here, this is not about me denigrating Ian in a very public forum. I just want to say how incredible I find it that a man who is so obviously intelligent, capable and truly good at what he does finds it so hard to believe that about himself. What is that about?

Self-doubt and Selfism

Just had a phone call...

and...
and...
and...

They gave me the job!

Flabbergasted, shell-shocked, gob-smacked etc. etc. etc.
I really am.

The further away it got from the interview, the less well the interview seemed to go, the more crappy my answers to their questions seemed. I really, really, really, thought I had screwed it up. But... I reckon my referees must have done me proud!

No details yet re: starting date or anything, but it's definite!
More news as I get it.

We're off to Lorne tomorrow [Friday], so we'll be packing some bubbly, I'd imagine!

Whoo, and indeed Hooooo!