Feb 22

 Where to begin.

Let us start with my health.

Somewhat better on the Friday, enough to get me down to my brothers and be alright.

Worse on Saturday. Worst still on Sunday. Not so good on Sunday at all, I took to bed a couple of times, for a few hours a piece. Nausea. An extremely badly stuffed head and dizziness and blah. Ill. Tired. Really shit. It crossed my mind I would not be able to get back to Norwich. That bad.

On Monday I peaked. I felt. Not bad. Drove back home. Went for a walk. Tired. But felt ok. Played games.

Today. Tired. By late this afternoon, diabolical. I looked in the mirror - two deeply blacked up eyes stared back at me, a pair of dark lines extending into my cheeks. Like the living dead. I decided to go to bed and rest.. and fell asleep.. for a couple of hours. In and out of shallower bits of sleep, a fluttering chest, a spinning head. So odd. So deep. It felt like at times I was fluttering in and out of being alive. Almost, but not quite, getting to that edge of not being. I. Can't really explain it better.

I told my brother at the weekend that I didn't think I had a super long time left. My days felt like they were definitely numbered.

This evening, after my sleep, I am.. back to the shores of merely "crap".

I don't know.

People tell me it's stress making shit worse.

I am 99% sure it is not stress. There's something deeply wrong, always the same place, center of chest, slightly to the left. It tickles. It aches. It makes me feel sick. It makes me feel ill. My heart skips and beats so slow at times. Meh. And we'll just skip right over the face tingles, tinnitus, weak legs and other bullshittery.

Roll on time. If there is a beast that lies there and is getting worse over time, then the passing of the days will see it come into focus better. It will be my last I Told You So. Which. Will be an incredibly fitting epitaph to my life. My middle name is Cassandra. Spike Milligans tombstone comment also flits through my mind "See - I told you I was ill". Funny. But I also get the not so funny implication.

Work.

So I met Andy on Saturday. I gave him both barrels at times. Not doing his job. His staff not doing their job. Not paying me. Taking the piss. Unpaid work whilst simultaneously he rewards himself with ever more fanciful toys.

Eh. I don't super have the strength to relate the ins and outs of it to be honest.

Suffice to say - he very carefully avoided telling me he had bought a Tesla - even when asked what cars he had. And he resorted to emotional blackmail - I feel sorry for one of our clients who quit his job because we promised him we could build him a system ( he quit his job 2 years ago now ). None of which is my responsibility. Not a promise made. Nor a shittily run business that collapses if I leave, despite numerous warnings. Yet somehow. That emotional blackmail falls to me. Forget Andy not being honest. A shit weasel with money. It's on me.

Andy is manipulative.

I am not blind to it.

Just like I'm not blind to the amount of money he shovels into his maw. Don't mistake lack of reaction for lack of knowledge.

In the end we left it with a compromise. I would work 2 days a week. More money. Time off. And a series of strong warnings. I am done. I don't believe in the business anymore. I don't want to do new things, double down on more bullshit. My path lies elsewhere. And I reserve the right at any time to just bail. And more specifically, if I don't see any benefit in 12 months, despite the new terms, I am gone.

I left the meeting with a bad taste in my mouth.

Unhappy. The decision did not seem a good one. Just end it instead. Why are you staying. I wavered on just ripping it all up, but, in the end, I had made a decision. So. Let's just see where we go with it. But. It was a razor fine edge. Make no mistake. This was not some happy oh less time more money yay for me. Farrrrrrrrrr from it. My mood was one of having lost out. Of that Opportunity Cost being too expensive. Of having fucked up and made a bad deal with the devil.

I reflected perhaps that is the nature of a compromise. To not be happy. But it will do.

But this felt like a thoroughly shit compromise.

I also rolled back to Andys exclusion of his Tesla. I got back. And double checked that yes, he had bought a Tesla at Christmas.

I slept on it. And sent a short text the following day.

Yesterday. You forgot to mention your Tesla. Did it just slip your mind ? You lied to my face.

Some hours later he sent a reply. It was his wifes. Not his. The wife who is on the company payroll and pulls a good salary. But does nothing.

I am not sure what kind of defence he thought it was attributing the Tesla to her not him. It's about how much money you pull out of the business, whilst fucking me in the ass my dude. Yours, your wifes, it doesn't matter. You pay your wife a salary out of the business to give you more tax head room to pull cash out and inflate your families income at my expense.

I didn't reply to him.

I came down on the side of just quitting. Even though I already knew it, now I had indisputable proof, right to my face, that his word was worthless. He would do and say whatever came into his head, no morals. Lie. Right in front of me. Weasel his way through stuff. Despite having come to a meeting where his ass was on the line. He still weaseled. He could not help lying. And hiding.

I also asked him to walk through his rationale for docking me wages for daring to have 5 days out after my surgery. Money in, money out he said. And what of the £150k of crypto you have mining on the company servers ? Oh. He said. Well. I used some of it to buy the boat. Uh huh. The boat. It's not as good as it sounds he said. And. Crypto is down again.

Ha. Jesus christ. Weak as fuck.

I think at this point, it's almost pathological weaselling for him. He has become so used to being a bullshit artist that he does not know how to not be that. He will always game it. And wheedle.

But this I also knew. He is not going to change. He cannot alter who he is or what he does ( in theory he could, in practice I know that he wont). In the same way he cannot address the flaws with the business. And what he does. He is stuck in his ways. The leopard, cannot change its spots. 

Nevertheless. It was eye opening to get a first hand, real time, no theorising, in your face run of examples that showcased his.. flaws. Like getting the final reveal of the murderer in a whodunnit. Ahhh. At last. Closure.

So. In the end. That was my weighing.

Can I go into this knowing, unequivocally, that this isn't a person I can trust. Who will dick me over given a chance. Who will sneak around and shit weasel with money.

What do I get out of it. Is it worth it ?

This is not a position I should be in. I have never had a job because "Whats in it for me". I am not that way. I hold other things far above that, it doesn't really even equate for me. But. That's all that is left at this role for me now. The satisfaction of doing the work, helping people out. Of building a business. Of doing something with a friend. A partner. All gone. The literal only thing left. What's in it for me. Can I turn this shit bucket into, at least something positive for me, and me alone.

Tricky. And probably not - mostly because I am not built that way. I am sure some unscrupulous fuckface would rub their hands about it ( or more likely just take the business from under him by going direct to his clients ).

I didn't talk to Andy again until today. And to be honest for most of that time I was quit. My brother counselled me - there are no friends in business. He will do and say whatever he can to keep those tills ringing. And that includes you. He will burn you to the ground as long as the money keeps rolling in. I should take a year off. Rest. Spend time with Athena. And see where I was at the end of a year.

Good advice.

Andy had said on Saturday that he would "offer me a package" on Monday. Which. Of course. He didn't do. If there is one constant with Andy is that he rarely does what he says he will do, and no sooner has he said something than he ends up breaking it. Sometimes, hilariously, within minutes. He can't help himself. Let's put it this way. He's not the person you want on the other end of the rope whilst you dangle above a ravine.

As of today I figured that I was quit for good. I wasn't setting off back to work with him not doing what he said he would do. And with the whole, you're a liar, hanging between us.

As it was he turned up today. And for once didn't stick his foot in his mouth. And lead with sending me a letter about full employment. Not what work are you doing today. But. Oh. Are you still working for us ?

If it had been the other way around, I would have again, just not bothered. No.

As it stands, I have tentatively agreed to the terms. My extended lovely family who are wise in such things have counselled me to pin down the wording. Get agreements for a bunch of unstated things. But. By and large. It seems that in the end, after all the drama, and fuckery, I will indeed get my days reduced down to 2 a week. And my pay increased.

We got to where I had foreseen I would probably end up.

By the narrowest of margins. I am not sure it's the right decision at all. A large part of me thinks I should just ditch it all anyway. But. Let's take a breath here.

I now absolutely know I cannot trust Andy.

That relationship between us is now cast in stone. I have seen what he is like. And I have seen that he is powerless to affect real change on himself. No one twisted his arm to lie. No pressure. No demands. He lied. He failed to do what he said he would do. He has lied on numerous things.

I have a 100% guaranteed measure of his character.

That is useful information. It eliminates doubt. Eliminates a capability to emotionally blackmail.

The agreement I have tentatively accepted is not forever. May not even last a month. It can change. And die. At any time, I can bail.

The opportunity cost to me is, I feel, enormous. But perhaps it leaves a door open. That I can exploit. Time to rest. To see if I get better - or worse. To see if I can finally start my own stuff. Games. Float that company. And if and when the time is right. Change entirely.

It is no terrible plan. Despite my instincts screaming at me that it's a bad compromise.

Chill. I can determine tomorrow, that I don't like it after all, and just quit.

So, that's where we are.

It didn't have to be this way, or go down like it did. The choices are Andy's to behave the way he has done. His true nature has been properly exposed. I still do not feel that this is truly who he is. Somewhere in there is a nice guy. But it is overlaid by this godawful slavery to money, his reckless spending of it, and his bottomless need to have more of it, and to risk everything else in his life to get it.

Pathological. Fucked up. Twisted.

That would be the shape of his flaws. A devil on his back.

We all have our flaws. Those are his. Finally, to me, as clear as day.

The shape of your flaws, as often as not, determines the shape of you as a person to others. The corruption of your original self. The scars. The baggage. The possible monster you become. But such things can also engender empathy. And care. And realisation of how shit life can be, and to help. Not all flaws end up turning you into a shitbag. And of course. Flaws known, can be worked on. Fixed even. We are all on a path of self improvement and self knowledge - in an ideal world.

So, for the next month I will be working 3 days a week. Then step down to 2 days a week. I will overall take a cut in my salary by a good chunk, but still be on more money per hour than I have been. 2 days a week will not be quite as painful as I had financially planned it would be. I will be in real terms 30% worse off. But double as time rich. And certainly, compared to many many people out there, I will have a good just under average paying job, even at 2 days a week. I am more than grateful for that. Not to Andy. But. Just in general. I do not undervalue what I have. I know that many more have it far worse. But it's also not some fluke. Not some generous patron. My skills are what has brought me to this point. But many times even that doesn't matter. So. I am grateful I am in a position where my skills can pay off.

Positives

Tricky. My health wavers hardcore. Between a disaster and eh, meh, copeable. Am I getting worse ? Do I have a second bout of bullshit cold / flu ? Is my "CFS" just being a bitch lately ? It's hard to be positive about it when I am feeling shit.

Let's try that again.

Positives.

I am grateful for the lovely people in my life.

I have made a useful change to my life. I have advocated for myself successfully, and moved towards a life that I for once have actually chosen, as opposed to just had imposed on me. I am in a better position now than I have ever been - life wise. Ignoring the whole health bullshit.

This week, as planned, I made a change. Things are now different than they were last week.

Hopefully the health thing comes along  and improves in its own time behind it. Now I have made improvements to the rest of my life. This will also beg the lie about whether stress is holding me down health wise, or, as I suspect, something else is fucking me up. Regardless. Useful information to be revealed by experiment ( on myself ).

And all of these positives are only just the beginning. Even better things promise on the horizon. Possibly a really super cool actual GOOD fucking life. Which. Is amazing. Unlikely. But possible. And with it. I can haul a whole bunch of people along in my wake and make their lives better too. Because. None of it really matters, unless you can help other people along the way too. And in doing so multiply that spark of goodness into a fire of positivity.

I've got this.

We've got this.

Life. Is gonna be good.

Come along for the ride ?