Blogging away the nighttime blues

Such is my recently charmed life that it’s been a long time since I’ve been unable to sleep due to a headful of problems.

This week, however, seems like one of those little spells where I just can’t catch a break.

In the old days I used to obliterate such late night concerns with cigarettes and whisky. But I quit one and the other now gives me heartburn and blogging actually seems more effective.

Anyway, before Tet it looked like a job offer was on the table. Since then that has slowly unraveled going from full-time to part-time to bits and pieces of freelance to maybe some work in the future.

All of which makes my recent decision to quit my daytime editing post seem a bit daft now. But then again when your hours are cut, despite absolute promises that they won’t be, and the work permit you were promised doesn’t materalise…

…and when you’re pretty much told “you know where the door is” when you complain. Well, there’s little you can do but call their bluff and leave.

Today there was more email chatter regarding potential job offers in my inbox but, though hopeful, they are still best filed under “jam tomorrow”.

On Sunday, me and the missus-to-be move into a more expensive place. I just spent $200 on a sofa. Second hand, when new would have been nicer. But the outlay still hurt.

Worst of all, and the main reason for this fug. Is that my flat back home has gone from nice-little-earner to horrific-money-pit. The thousands of pounds spent on fighting an outbreak of dry rot before Christmas is now deemed not enough and thousands more are required to get it into a state whereby it is marketable and able to start bringing in money again.

At the same time details of a Vietnamese wedding are slowly making themselves known to me . Even allowing for my girlfriend fighting my corner there will be no getting away with a “quiet do”. Not when you’re faced with the twin demons of family loss-of-face and the ever-present expectations of tradition.

In my bank account in the UK there are still some dwindling savings and a double-quick finding of work would make all the worries instantly evaporate.

But as it stands I *am* awake and I *am* worried.

In truth, this is not Vietnam-worried. In fact, take me out of this context and put me in the UK and my outgoings would be much greater and my fears much worse.  Actually I have a feeling that this bout of anxiety is probably just how grown-ups (Dads, husbands etc) feel most of the time. It’s just a new thing for me.

But – either the money pit apartment or a job – I feel like I’m due some good news tomorrow.

Something has to give.

Note: To be truthful I had all but the last couple of paragraphs written of the above when Skype beeped into life and I have been summoned to HCMC tomorrow to see a man about a job.

Here’s hoping something just gave.