Optimism shmoptimism

It hasn't been the best of weeks, in some ways. Sure, I booked the bargain flight of a lifetime the other day. I finally got back into swing dancing properly. I'm off to Scotland tonight for some relaxation and touring of tourist haunts...but there was more bad stuff than good.

It may not seem like it from what I write here, but I'm generally optimistic. I always, always expect things to fall into place in a way that suits me. They often don't, but at least I will have had the fun of planning for the positive alternative. Even when faced with disaster, I can never quite believe that the perfect solution isn't just coming around the corner. I'd rather be an occasionally disappointed optimist than an always on the money pessimist. But it seems I'm feeling a little negative today, in spite of spending last night cracking up once more about Team America: World Police with C, my newest flatmate ("Har-roh"..."Matt Damon"...too many giggles). So here we go, a catalogue of my woes, if only to make others feel a little bit better about themselves.

As of Wednesday (about 6 hours after booking my return flight home), we're up to round 5 in the redundancy season at work. It's a choice of 2 evils that we face. Either we lose our job and are forced out into perhaps the worst job seeking environment for architects since...well, since before the working life of anyone I know began, or we take yet another pay cut. The bonus this time isn't reducing our hours (although I am hoping that when things turn around, the 4:30 finish on a Friday keeps rolling). It's an extra 5 days of paid leave every 6 months. What if we don't want the leave? Can we take the pay instead? Doubt it's an option, somehow. So now I'm trawling the job ads.There are none for people with my qualifications, apparently, so I'm looking at secretarial work and wondering how people could possibly survive in London on £8 an hour.

Coming as it did just after I'd arrange 2 weeks of unpaid leave, this news was...unwelcome. To say that I was not happy would be to do a grave disservice to miserable people. Same goes with angry. I think it's the fact that everything is so far out of our own control on this one. And if there's one thing I like, it's control. So onto Thursday's disasters.

My plan for the Scotland trip was to fly up to Edinburgh tonight, then spend a leisurely night in a hotel and wander to the start of the tour tomorrow morning. It was a good plan. I booked a flight, a hotel, I was all set. Or so I thought. Now, I'm keeping this one to myself a little...or at least from Flatmate. Because she screwed up booking our return flights from Belfast earlier this year and didn't actually realise until we'd gotten to the airport, already check in online, and trying to get through security to board a flight that wasn't scheduled to leave until the next day. I'm not that bad. I realised what I'd done as I checked in online. I'd booked my flight for 8am instead of 8pm. I don't quite know how I did it. I'm still convinced it was down to an accident somewhere along the way. But whatever it was, I can't get my money back and can't change flights without spending more money than the rest of the trip combined. So now I'm catching a bus overnight in order to join a bus tour for five days. I'm going to be seeing a lot of buses.

But Thursday wasn't done with me yet. Nor were British Airways, apparently. I'm booked to fly to New York over the Christmas/New Year period. Except now I'm not booked to fly back to London, because they cancelled my flight. Nothing major in the scheme of things (in fact, given precarious job situation, may be blessing - there's that silver lining, right there), but annoying, just the same.

I've taken all the skin off a knuckle, and I have no idea how I did it.

I left home on time this morning, but arrived at work 20 minutes late to find the office HR manager standing by reception as I walked/ran/tripped into the building.

It was weigh-in day for my diet and I'm exactly - EXACTLY the same as last week.

I'm in the process of missing a deadline today.

I haven't yet won the lottery. Of course, I haven't yet bought a ticket either, but that's irrelevant if fate decides to take a hand. That waitress who got half first prize when someone tipped her with a share of his ticket never bought one, either.

Last night, I was dancing with someone who announced that they have swine flu, going on to explain that it's no different to any other flu, so it's fine for them to be out and about infecting everyone. No, it's not. I know swine flu is just like any other flu. But I don't want to catch any other kind of flu either. Flu is bad at anytime, but I don't have the time to be sick anyway. I don't care that you think you're not contagious anymore. I don't care that you're not feeling too terrible anymore. I don't care if it's not flu, just a mild headache caused by something contagious. If you're sick, keep your germs to yourself. God knows I get enough of them just from public transport every day.

So with all of that in mind, I'm bracing myself for a catastrophe. Previous efforts have been spectacular, and the worst of them involve physical comedy moments and public transport (how many others have not only done the splits getting off a bus on icy streets, but tripped themselves over and headbutted a train as well? Fallen down stairs in a crowded nightclub while stone-cold sober and been helped out in a wheel chair? Am I alone there?) So, if anyone is nearby when the disaster that is due strikes, I recommend filming it. It's guaranteed to win you money on some home movie competition. And I figure a 50-50 split is about right. Because if these slips get any worse, I'm going to need to cover hospital bills. And without a job, that could be tricky.