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Interesting how life changes. Single now for a little over a year, and settled in nicely to a comfortable townhouse, having sold the 'property', big boat, horses, and all the stuff that families accumulate, and life going along very nicely thank you.
Then what happens? One of our major competitors steals my old boss (no loss if you ask me); and then she proceeds to steal our best performers. So we are in some disarray and our client base is under siege by the ship-jumpers. The CEO comes down to Canberra ( a rare visit) and tells me I've got to stop hiding out and move to Sydney to help get things back on track. Knowing that he is a famous tight-arse, I make outrageous relocation cost demands, and top that off with a demand for guaranteed commissions 60% higher than i get now for the first year, and think no more of it. Next thing i know I'm looking for a replacement here and making arrangements to move to Sydney.
Canberra ranks very high in those 'Most Liveable City' survey things for a reason. Apart from the winter weather, this place is just the cruisiest joint to live in. You get all the good things about city life, without the noise, and smell and traffic, and dickheads, and all the other bullshit. So now I'm going to have to rent some ridiculously expensive apartment in a 'lifestyle' complex, with pool and gym and 'great outdoor relaxation spaces', and fight the traffic, and pay the tolls just to use the only-slightly-faster- motorways to get to work and back.
I'll be 57 this October and should be starting to ease back and contemplate short weeks and long golf games, but no; here we effing go again.