Monday, January 23, 2006

Big Blogger

5.50 p.m. and St enters the diary room.

Hello St. How are you today?

I'm fine thanks BB, did you know I've got eight weeks off work for good behaviour?

Will anyone notice?

Probably not. I've not left town so I've had chats today with Alan, Suzanne (congratulations Grandma and welcome to Barnaby), Naomi (plus Isaac and Jasmin), Jo and Ceri.

Wow. That's more work than you normally do.

I know. Perversely I seem to be able to work as a displacement activity from sabbatical leave.

Did you manage to ...

...complete my tax return. Yes. How cool is that? Eight days early.

You mean eight days before the absolute deadline and you get fined £100. I'd call that eight months late personally.

You are pedantic.

How are you feeling career wise?

Ah, I wondered why you called me in.


Well as you know I feel that two part-time jobs is pretty much unsustainable now. After three years the church work has encroached on my writing work and made it difficult to keep two days a week free for that. As a result I need to decide over the next eight weeks which of my two part-time jobs I want to do ful-time.


Yeah it's playing havoc with my typing too.

Not a writer but a typer.

That's not original and you know it.

What about full-time clergying?

Well I decided to push that door a bit and see if anyone wanted to give me a job and I've got an interview this week to pursue a possibility not too far away.

Blimey. You a vicar?

Rector actually.

What's the difference?

Little in practical terms, but once upon a time the Rector was the one who got the bigger tythes of the produce of the glebe than the Vicar. In team ministries they tend to call the senior clergy person Team Rector.

Come again. Or do you mean Team Wrecker?

The church land (glebe) had crops. Farmers rented it and paid a tythe (tax) of the first part of the crop to the clergy.

And they'd make someone like you senior?

I haven't even been interviewed yet.

Yeah no but you'll be thinking your way into it.

Yeah no?

Sorry. I was in a shop and an assistant said, 'Are you OK there or do you need help?' The only answer is, 'Yeah (I'm OK) no (so I don't need help)'. People force you into the yeah no position even if you despise it. It's the questioner's fault.

You sound pretty uptight about it for someone who doesn't exist.

I am.

Let me take you for a coffee. We could go along to Fight Club afterwards.

Thanks. I'd like that. Now about that Wrecked Tory...

Rectory. It's a box. 1980s. Horrid. Not that I've seen it yet.

Two lattes please.

So you've thought your way into it?

I wondered if you'd noticed I said that.

I notice. It' s my job.

Thanks. You're a good mate you.

1 comment:

Sam said...

the genre works for me.

the decision sounds interesting.

on tax returns and similar organisational inconveniences: that resonates with my soul.