Doctor, Without Borders.: The Good, the Bad, the Fugly.doc

I struggle to post today because it doesn't even feel like a week has gone by. But low and behold I turn around and it's Friday. I've finished my duties at R.I. (River Island) for a week and I'm about to jet down to London for two nights of frivolity. I think most of the weeks are going to be like this from here on out. I'm squeezing this post in before departure because I want to give you a look at the good, the bad, and the fugly events from my week.

The Good

Work at River Island is going really well. What I like most about the job is that the hours fly by. I have been doing 7 hours a day on Mondays and Wednesdays in addition to five hours a day on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Next week, and for five weeks until the contract is over, I'll add 7 hours on Friday to working approx. 30 hours a week. Not so part time anymore. I've actually been given lots of responsibility there (especially for a Christmas temp). I think it would have been much more advantageous of them to promote one of their current staff to the Product positions I am learning (rather than giving me all these skills and having me leave the first week of January) but it's not my place to question.

On my third shift at the store, I was listed on the day rota as the Ladieswear Product Manager. A surprise to me too. I've slowly learned what this role entails, but I feel that once I finally grasp it I'll already have one foot out the door. Aside from this, I work with some really fun people and I'm enjoying working outside of academia. I probably won't be singing the same tune come Boxing Day (when I hear the Brits shop 10 times more insanely than we do) but I think it'll create some memorable moments if I'm stuck here for the holidays: "let me tell you about the Christmas I worked retail in the UK". I'd rather be chilling out in my final month in Leamington, but it means I'd come to Canada penniless. This way I rake in a load of pounds that DOUBLE once I cross the border. It makes securing that Toronto pad all the more possible. As a reward for my diligence I'm going to take advantage of my 30% staff discount in the form of 150 pounds of merch per month. Thankfully, River Island is one of the top three hip shops in the UK.

The Bad

There wasn't a lot of bad news this week, but the realization did hit me that my time in Europe is winding down. Having submitted the dissertation draft I've taken a week off from even looking at it - I tell myself it's a good thing, but there still is a lot of work to do be done. It's just hard to give it attention after running around on my feet for seven hours. Add to this the fact that I'm slowly but surely starting to plan a return to Canada and the inevitability of leaving hits home. On one hand I am 100% ready to return home. I'm accomplished everything I set out to do here. But on the other, sixteen months is a long time to be away. I know I'm not coming back to the same Canada, but I'm hoping the transition back is seamless. In any event, I have one more week left of fantastic traveling. I've set aside a nice portion of my R.I. funds to do it on a comfortable budget so I'm not scraping by. I've researched a few options but nothing is solid yet. I guess if I was to label this "bad" section it's all the planning I have to do. So much to figure out and so little time! I have a Toronto apartment application on my desktop begging to be filled out with little means to answer all the questions they need. Planning, planning, and more planning.

The Fugly

The ugly event of the week happened when I was at work. Actually, I think it happened as I was walking home from work. Our oven exploded. What? You've never heard of an oven exploding? Neither have I. The girls had put a pizza in for ten minutes on a moderate temperature. After it just turned golden brown, the innner layer of glass covering the oven door exploded against the outer wall of glass and shattered all over the floor and inside the oven. Thankfully the girls were in the dining room when the oven decided to shed its layer of glass. I wasn't home for these fireworks but the girls said the sound was like a gunshot and that the oven door actually propelled outward. We were nervous that the landlord would be furious with us for some sort of wrongdoing, but he was completely understanding. I mean, how could we have done anything to make an oven door explode? The oven looks brand new in the past two years so hopefully he can have it sorted. It was completely strange. Photo previdence: