Full Moon, so called Harvest Moon. My mum, on top of playing the accordion, is the number one Neil Young fan in the whole world. ZE ultimate fan. So I couldn’t let this one pass now could I? And I like this song too, so there ya go.
And so I told them. I told them, at work, that I would be leaving to be self employed and do my thang. Of course, being in the position I am in in this office (read= no one can do what I do) and the profile I have (read= Swiss knife, just like everybody else here), as vain as it may sound, we need to find a) someone reaaal good, b) that I can train, for at least 3 months c) in one of the busiest periods of time so they know what to expect. Meaning I won’t be fully self employed until Easter, and that’s if everything goes well.
It’s ok, you know, I hadn’t planned it any other way. Because as much as I am longing for working my a** off on my own terms, I don’t want to leave unfinished crappy sloppy business behind. So it’s fine, ball is rolling anyway.
A little word on “social laws”, as they are called, in Belgium: two weeks notice doesn’t exist. It’s 6 weeks minimum – that’s if you have worked less than 5 years in the company. If you have worked at least 5 years, it’s 3 months notice.
I have been here for 4 years now. Yet, again, I don’t mind being here for at least another 6 months. Because I know that at some point, I will be harvesting what I have done today. It’s no longer a question of “if…”, it’s “when…”
And I’m feeeeeeliing gooood 🙂