One Month

Today is, or tomorrow will be, depending on when I finish writing this, the 18th of December. Not only does this mark one week until Christmas, and hence the point at which I should start thinking about buying presents, but it will also be one month exactly until I leave my job. I was going to call this a one-month anniversary, but anniversaries tends to celebrate events that have already happened - you don't get minus-one-year wedding anniversaries. Because of this, I have decided to invent the word "annireversary", a celebration of an upcoming event. Tomorrow shall be the one-month annireversary of the end of my very brief career in insurance. Hmmm, that doesn't sound right. I'm no expert on these things, but I'm guessing the "anni" bit of "anniversary" means year, in which case I can't really have a one month anniversary (let alone annireversary). I guess I could have one-twelfth of a year's annireversary, but then the 365 days of a year don't go into twelve too easily, so I'd have to celebrate it at some odd and specific time of day. Perhaps the solution is to shut up about the whole thing, although I stand by my new word - what better way to talk about upcoming World Cups or Olympic Games? Come to think of it, if "Olympic Games" is a phrase describing one summer's worth of Olympic activity, what is the plural? "Olympic Gameses"? Yes, now is definitely the time to stop talking about this.
I started this post, which I am happy to announce is now fairly long and rambling, thus allowing it to sit comfortably alongside its brothers, with the intention of talking about the fact that I am leaving my job in a month. I could actually do with another couple of weeks' wages before I go travelling, but as far as I can recall, I started working at this place in August, and five months is definitely long enough - I set my target quitting date a while ago and to move it back now would be cruel on me. While I was talking to a nice bloke this morning who works part-time at the company, I revealed that I was actually not an 18-year-old gap year student, but a grizzled 23-year-old with a Master's degree in physics. The mouth-agape reaction of "so why are you here?", and the fact that this is not the first such reaction, made me glad I'm nearly done. I'm very glad I've been brought up to be stingy (only just learnt how to spell that!), because it would have been very easy to spend the lion's share of the money I've earned, especially given my penchant for guitars and related paraphernalia. Oh man, there's some good synonyms for "stingy" - I am parsimonious with my earnings. I am miserly. I should use thesauruses more often. However, even with all this talk of saving money and being sensible, I am sorely tempted by a wind-up MP3 player. Tell me that isn't cool.