Quit my job in 4 days

This blog is going to be more than just a travel dairy. Of course, I want to catalogue my experiences as I travel through Central America, because I have goldfish memory. I can't even remember what this post is about-oh yea-travel writing.

The main reason people travel is not to see the things, but to meet the people. The idea is to get a feel for the culture, language, history, the vibe, the mabo of the place. So I'd like to record not only my impressions of the people I meet, but also their impressions of where they live. Let's see what they think about their country, government, their place in the world and so on. Let's find out what they think of developed country debt, climate change and emerging China, because apart from the one day cricket against the Windies, these are the big issues in Australia at the moment.

At any rate I don't really know anything about the places I'm headed to so it'll be steep learning curve when I arrive.

I'm going to fly to Los Angeles on the 3rd of March, and from there trek down to Mexico. I haven't decided if I should fly straight to Mexico or get a bus and see a bit of the US West Coast. It sounds pretty easy-yea I'll just bus it down to Mexico City from LA-but on the map it's pretty big, more like going to Brisbane from Cairns. We'll see, some planning may be in order after I quit work.

From Mexico it'll be Nicaragua, El Salvador, Costa Rica, Honduras, Panama, Guatemala, then through Colombia to Venezuela. From there-Eastern Europe via Warsaw...I'm going wife hunting.

So it's Monday, February 8 2010, 4 days before I quit my job, or at least hand in my notice. The boss who is a testicle smasher is in Melbourne today and tomorrow so it's feet up till Wednesday. They never gave me a contract so I hope that they don't stiff me my two weeks notice period. They also owe me about $5,500 in expenses so to play it safe I'll wait till I've banked that cheque before I do anything inflammatory.

Starting to feel quite good about the whole venture. Working this job was slowly killing me. For a start, the boss is a tool. He isn't deliberately vindictive. He's just an impulsive, balding, hairy, skinny, retro, cafe latte, electronic music scene ethnic cool, Honda S2000 sorta guy who can cross his legs in economy on the plane (indicative of a testosterone deficit) but actually kind of a dick, rude and dismissive to the little people and a slimy, tongue on anus chummy groveller to people he can derive status/money from.

The office is small with just four of us and since we aren't supposed to joke with each other (because we could be cold calling instead) there isn't much of an atmosphere at work. And obviously cold calling to set up business meetings is just as cruddy as it sounds, and since I'm nearly 27 it's time to give that game away.

The two other people I work with are alright. Scotty was a couple of years above me at school and is a laid back character. He hasn't sold anything for about a year, and has been told that he's got till end of March to sell something or he gets the punt. Judging by the general lack of activity at his desk, and the strategic way he's tilted his computer screen so nobody can see what's on it, I don't think he's too stressed by his precarious tenure.

Mary Clare is a crackerjack. Never have I met someone with such a good heart and such a timid soul. She is a completely ineffective sales person though, and has been here a year without selling a SINGLE FUCKING THING! She works very hard, doing the same wrong things day in day out and I don't see her ever selling anything except by accident. She is lovely though, and it's impossible to get her to say anything bad about anyone. And she's marrying an Italian guy with a Skyline GTR, among other cars so we have a good time rubbishing her for marrying such a rampant wog, and she takes it all very well.

Today I can't go to the toilet. Somebody vomited on the floor in there over the weekend and the puke smell has solidified to an offensive wall of reek. That's right, somebody has puked on the floor in my work toilet. You can't walk in without gagging, and it hasn't been cleaned up yet. If I'm being completely honest, it's possible I know who left that stinky pile of chunder on the floor, but discretion dictates I will keep his identity under wraps.

It was the Super Bowl today, and even though I've just started following it I'm glad that New Orleans got up. I snuck out of the office to watch a bit of it but missed most of the game.

And finally, it seems as if my marriage of convenience to Mike's British friend, who lives in Abu Dhabi and needs to marry an Aussie to get an Australian visa, has fallen through. Turns out the lady in question would rather marry someone she actually loves, or at least has met before. Reneging on an agreement like this is disgraceful and hurtful and I am contemplating suing her for breach of contract, because I was really counting on the $10k she was going to pay me to help fund this holiday.