I was originally told I’d have a week to go back and pack my things and that I just needed to “check in” with the London office from time to time to make sure things were moving along smoothly.
Instead, I had to start working at 6 a.m. (already noon London time) and work a full day, then try to arrange getting stuff into storage, finding movers, getting a renter for my apartment, canceling utilities, getting my cell phone put on hold, saying a proper good-bye to friends and spending a bit of time with family.
The day the movers came, my mother came to help – not with heaving lifting, but I think just for moral support. Hers more than mine. Four burly guys showed up and I intended to help instruct them what should be put in storage and what should be shipped to England. Instead, I got a call from a VP in our L.A. office. She had to figure out how certain client jobs had been estimated. How would I know? Those jobs happened well before I was sent to London. Back and forth we went trying to guestimate where every number in every column came from. I said “I’d love to help you out, but I’m moving today.” Her reply was “I don’t know who else to ask.” Never mind that she’s a VP and that her department was responsible for putting together the estimates in the first place.
So, there I sat, on the stairwell of my apartment building, with my laptop and cell phone while four guys rummaged through everything I owned and my mom sat on the couch trying not to get teary eyed.
Instead, I had to start working at 6 a.m. (already noon London time) and work a full day, then try to arrange getting stuff into storage, finding movers, getting a renter for my apartment, canceling utilities, getting my cell phone put on hold, saying a proper good-bye to friends and spending a bit of time with family.
The day the movers came, my mother came to help – not with heaving lifting, but I think just for moral support. Hers more than mine. Four burly guys showed up and I intended to help instruct them what should be put in storage and what should be shipped to England. Instead, I got a call from a VP in our L.A. office. She had to figure out how certain client jobs had been estimated. How would I know? Those jobs happened well before I was sent to London. Back and forth we went trying to guestimate where every number in every column came from. I said “I’d love to help you out, but I’m moving today.” Her reply was “I don’t know who else to ask.” Never mind that she’s a VP and that her department was responsible for putting together the estimates in the first place.
So, there I sat, on the stairwell of my apartment building, with my laptop and cell phone while four guys rummaged through everything I owned and my mom sat on the couch trying not to get teary eyed.
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