Taking Leave

They want me to take annual leave, as I have too much annual leave accrued.

This is not something they ever really cared about traditionally, but now that we've got an American parent company they are suddenly caring about this shit.

It has been mentioned a couple of times, but I ignored it, but Boris bought it up seriously in a call to me a couple of days ago. It wasn't a call about that specifically, but it is how the call ended.

Boris joked, "Can you take it between monthly reporting." Then she laughed and said, "You take it whenever you want."

We are currently changing all our applications over to cloud based applications. And we've got all that painful HR initiated business to attend to.

I haven't taken extended leave since before the pandemic, only the few Xmas shut down days, and even then, I have worked through a few of those some years.

So, I applied for 8 weeks leave starting the week after next.

That should thrill Boris. Not that I applied for 8 weeks leave to taunt her, because I didn't. (Well? Um? Er? 😀 That's more, or less, true) I just thought about it, and thought that maybe a nice long break where I could totally switch off would do me good.

8 weeks is still only a fifth of the leave I have accrued, so it is barely going to take me off the 'must-take-leave' list. We'll see.

Sam has been told he has to take leave too. He hasn't said he will, yet.

Now that I have done it, I am looking forward to it, even if I sit around on my arse and do fuck all for its entirety. Even if all I do is get stuck into my pot plants. I don't think that is something I have ever said on here, that I have a green thumb. My house is full of plants, and they all need attention right about now, it being spring.

My garden could also do with some attention. That creeper on my side wall is Medusa’s hair once again.

Well, someone has to do it? There is no gardener, like there is no cleaner. I've had gardeners and cleaners before, but I suffer from something I call Invasion Syndrome. Working from home, or having days off and being home, I just can't stand anyone like a cleaner, or gardener being in, or at, the house, as I feel like my space has been invaded. I don't know if that is a thing, but it is a thing with me. I'm much happier doing it myself, than having someone here doing it for me. Maybe I could tolerate Tommy, from next door, here in summer, in a pair of shorts, working in the garden, maybe. Possible shirtless. I could take him a drink in the heat of the day, and he could kind of spill it down his chin and onto his chest, and I could… um? Er? Shake of the head. What was I talking about? Oh yes, call me crazy, but I would just prefer to do it myself.