Time off gets hectic far too quickly.
Very little of it due to the new array of black lacy matching underthings that Mapie and I picked up in our hour-before-stores-close rush yesterday evening.
Not all that much of it due to catching up with friends that I've been neglecting locally (and even less time dedicated to the heartwarming e-mails going cold in my inbox).
A few sparse evenings over dinner, hurried hugs in passing as I ran in one direction towards "explain what the words on my resum� mean" afternoon at my parent company, whilst others ran t'other way on other harried errands.
I learned a new term, yesterday. "Vacances forc�s" and I must admit that I do not like it.
Apparently this time between contracts as my "counsellors" idle their way between meetings with clients whose needs they barely understand (I feel I have the authority to say this due to the numerous phone calls asking me what I think various projects could mean), is deducted from my vacation time.
Forced vacation, only I'm stuck here fielding desperate phone calls?
I don't like this one bit.
One of my hasty solutions for this is fucking off for Germany for a few days, and holing up in David's hotel room and wandering the town whilst he exudes professionalism on his own contract.
Hopefully I'll learn a few german terms to suplement my vast vocabulary of german words that shouldn't be uttered in public.
My other solution is looking up les normes du travail in quebec - this being a quebec company, scouring my contract, and finding a legal wall to lean against, thanks to a few other fellow consultants' urgings.
Perhaps Mr. Pyke's suggestion of following David back to Montreal for a few days isn't too far off the wall of possible either.
Depends on what my parent company has to say when I gather up my courage to stand up to them tomorrow, and ask a few questions regarding how long they plan to sit on their hands whilst waiting for a contract to fall onto their stale-green desktops.
The list of other companies desperate to send me on their own contracts has me wondering.
I've always felt uncomfortable switching companies for better salary this or because I feel like it that. Something about loyalty which apparently doesn't belong in today's corporate world.
Or perhaps I am merely worrying about the looks on my resum�.
Six months isn't a long time before moving on.
Perhaps... Perhaps the nature of consulting obliges this. Perhaps consulting for someone else is simply like another contract. Perhaps I am not being irresponsible in my choices.
This is all beginning to become so complicated. And if it weren't for my ego, the ski trips in march, and certain debts to the banks here that helped me set up my appartment...
Perhaps I would consider responding to a few of those job offers montreal side and tearing a few complications out by their roots.
But that isn't what I came here for, and I have work left to do, lessons left to learn.
I am not ready to leave just yet, ski trip or no skip trip.
And sleep or no sleep, I will figure out what to do as well.
My trip to Montreal in May for his birthday isn't going to be taken away quite that easily.
In the meantime, dinner is bubbling on the stove, and Seb is on his way to get fed, pick up the hockey stick I taped for him in Montreal fashion, and drag my bruised ass out rollerblading.
I will never be able to say that I didn't learn anything here, and that is terribly important.