So, early e-mail from Son No 1 this morning. He has been unhappy in his Cheltenham job for some time. Probably from about day 7 I would think, and has therefore been looking around for a new one. He applied to a place called Cook, some UK readers might have heard of it. We hadn't, but then we live on the edge of nowhere it seems. Anyway Cook is a half direct managed, half franchised operation which basically sells upmarket microwave meals and in some areas has a café attached as well. The recently opened version in Cheltenham is a franchise and has a café and shop and Son No 1 has successfully applied to manage it. He seems pretty pleased, which is a good thing and I very much hope that he will settle down there because it seems a long time since he spent longer than six months in a job, and I would worry about him less if he could manage to stay somewhere even for twelve months at a time.
There are some good and some understandable reasons why his life has turned into a series of short term jobs, but just because they are good and/or understandable doesn't mean that I am any happier about it.
Anyway that was the good news, The bad news came in a Skype message from Son No 2, who had just been informed by his flatmate [pause there for New Zealand joke about possums, if you know it], that he is leaving the flat at the end of February. Son no 2 now in a bit of a quandary as he doesn't need a two bedroomed flat, and doesn't want to pay all the rent himself, but is settled, has a contract for Internet provision there etc etc. It's not the end of the world for him or anyone else but it's just one of those niggly little things that we could all do without.
I'm sure something will get sorted though. Maybe one day I will wake up and not have to worry about either of them. Or is not worrying outwith the parental remit?
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