... explaining my reasons for leaving my current job to the various big wigs who need to know. To date the conversations have been very adult.
The reasons for my going are actually quite simple - MOMEMTUM (I need to feel as though I'm moving toward being in charge of something), MONEY (a salary that keeps pace with the rent / mortgages) and MISSION (a place that knows why it exists, what it's trying to do and how I can help)
I'm in the lucky position of being able to do what I love and to demand decent reward for doing it and I'm finally flexing some of that power.
It doesn't help of course that I'm having these calls whilst suffering the jet lag to end all jet lags - having spent the last 10 days getting to various places in the world whilst planning how to get back. We lost a day heading to London. a day at the embassy, a day heading north to my parents' house, a day getting to Antwerp, a day getting to and from Amsterdam and a day getting home yesterday.
Mind I'd rather be at home on the telephone than running the maurading pre-Xmas shopping hoards of Brits who have descended upon New York on the back of a dollar to pound exchange rate of 1.95 - if I hear another Essex voiced cry of 'I'll need an extra suitcase to get all of this stuff home' then I shall scream. If there's one thing that NYC can do without it's fat, 'blonde', tasteless gangs of clueless British housewives clucking 'cheap, cheap, cheap' as they elbow their way around Macy's (which isn't the American Harrod's ladies - it's the American Debenhams)
Perhaps Bloomberg could pass a decibel law and turn back screeching harridans at customs...
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