Getting back 3.25 hours a day is nice

So most of you will be able to infer that I've switched jobs recently, though 'switched jobs' would be somewhat inaccurate. I left Old Job because there was too much politicking going on, without any plan in mind. Then 2 days later, I received an email from an acquaintance about a job she'd enquired on my behalf about 5 months ago. I'd completely forgotten about it and as it turns out, New Job and I are a pretty good match.

This time, I get out of bed around 8.15am. I shower the night before because in the humid spring weather, my hair gets super frizzy post-wash. I clean my teeth and face, put on make up (I suspect my new foundation is the cause of the recent outbreak breakout). Like Old Job, I wear whatever I want (New Boss has a tattoo and nose ring and has given me her blessing to dye my hair pink), but as we haven't moved into the official building and are working from her home, flip flops are permissible.

I leave the house around 8.30am. Any earlier is too early; any later, I get stuck in school traffic. I drive for about 25 minutes up a Valley. The road is very windy. My cornering skills are challenged every other minute or so. But it's an incredible drive - I see geese at the park and in the lakes. I see cows chewing and regurgitating and chewing and regurgitating and chewing and regurgitating and chewing and regurgitating in the fields. The camphor laurels create a soothing green canopy over the roads. I drive into flocks of pigeons/ gallahs and a magpie or two.

I turn off the main road up a very steep road and turn left to another one even steeper (I once took a walk down this road to clear my head. BIG MISTAKE. It took me forever to walk back up again, drenched in sweat.) I used to park in her yard but all the decorative boulders in her garden have kissed my bumper. Now I just park a little further up the road where the incline has tapered off.

Sake (like the wine) the dog barks at me. He was rescued from a pound and is still harbouring a fear of abuse. I look for my colleagues and we start on a new task. Wwoofers, mostly young European men, wander around the garden, tools in hand.

Lunch is done hovering over the laptop, chicken and avocado sandwich in hand. New Boss is certain my zits and eczema are caused by my less than healthy diet (Cadbury bars for breakfast!). She is determined to convert me to a vegetarian/ organic diet. I demur but she keeps cutting up fruit for me and I tend to munch anything within an arm's length radius.

This might be a losing battle on my part.

We work until 4.00pm, where the men deliver the kids home. There are three in all. Very cute little things. I awkwardly pet them and try not to trod on them when they crawl around on the floor.

I might stay back until 5.00 or 6.00pm, depending on the workload. I signed up for a three day workload but usually end up working half a day from home anyway. New Boss has requested I put in another day, something that will probably put a damper on my plans to learn French.