Freakish Friday

I DO think I’m mad. Bloody crazy. Nuts. Gaga. Talk about biting off more than I can chew? Tomorrow is the day for doing that.

I am going to embrace my insane Joziburger™ self and Go Big Or Go Home.

First up: my inaugural meeting at the local chapter of BNI. This will be at 7am. Yes. 7am. Yay, for doing the school run at sunrise.    **thud**    I’m hoping I can slot in there, and make myself useful (and make myself some money), while finding out what the other members can do for me.

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“So, it’s like you’ve retired, almost…”

6Mwtf posterWHAT?

Someone, close to me, said this to me shortly after I’d been retrenched.

The air left my lungs (better places to go), my brain tried to crunch the words, my sense-of-self hauled out the giant “WTF?” poster.

NO!

People like me don’t retire. OK, maybe we do, officially, like when Old Mutual says we have to do something with that pension. But, really, like, retire?

NO WAYS!

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Why another blog about Jozi?

6Moysters“Oh, no,” you say, “another bloody blog about bloody Johannesburg. When will it end?”

You’re probably right. But this is a blog about how I see Joburg. Jozi. And how it makes me smile and wonder.

These days my life involves a lot more travel around Jozi. I was retrenched in January. Now I have to find ways to earn the proverbial rusk. I have visited more parts of the city than I ever did before…probably because I was once stuck in an office every day, five days a week – part of the engine room below decks.

I’ve tried to find work that is the same as what I did before, but Jozi also has her bitch side. There is no work. Or – if there is – then it is at a pittance, or else the purveyors of that work are in hack-and-slash mode and want to chop this tall poppy (ok, short poppie) down to size by telling me I’m too old, or overqualified.

Fuck. (Yes, I swear. Live with it.)

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