Irish Rover - Part 8

....continued from Irish Rover Part 7 - Part of a series of posts recalling my wandering ways (finally bringing you to how I got ended up here in Buenos Aires.

New York was great but I still hadn't found what I was looking for. After a bit of pleading, heaving and pushing for a transfer, a potential work opportunity with the bank I worked for presented itself to move from New York back to London which would put us nearer to at least one family (mine).

After giving notice on our apartment lease, abandoning the wife's application for US residency, buying air tickets, paying for a moving company, the unthinkable happened. A management reshuffle at work meant the transfer was put on hold until further notice. The 'Man from Del Monte' who said yes no longer had the power to say yes and we were left up sh!t creek without a paddle. I was a tad fu(ked off with the corporate machine to say the least.

The exit wheels were already too far in motion so the missus had to head solo to the UK and hopefully I would follow shortly. The movers packed all our stuff and the missus boarded a plane and I ended up having to sleep on a sofa of a good friend waiting for the politics in work to settle down. Any illusions I had about 'the company has your best interests at heart' were dashed. I still feel bitter about the whole way it was handled. I gave the company 110% - they gave me the middle finger up the arse!

If it weren't for the consistent lobbying of my boss back then, I probably would never have made it, but she pushed and pushed until the powers that be finally relented (thank you 'R'). After four months haggling I finally moved back to London in April 2005.

London had changed a lot (for the better) since my time there in the 80's. Irish were no longer third class citizens. Quite the opposite - we were riding the high waves of the Celtic Tiger. We spent two fantastic years spending a lot of time with family and friends and exploring the near and far flung corners of Europe on the Ryanair cattle shuttles.

In June 2007 after much deliberation and consultation I decided to walk away from the company and 'secure' job I'd had for 13 years. No redundancy package - No golden parachute - just me heading off into the sunset for a wee bit of R & R, to be a bum and do this kind of stuff. I needed a break. I needed a sense of purpose.


Is life just about 9am-8pm Mon-Fri? Wait for a bonus that rarely meets expectations? Take conference calls at 10pm? Have that sinking feeling in your stomach on Sunday afternoon - "Oh fuck - work tomorrow!"

A lot of people (most of them have mortgages, kids and debts up to their eyeballs) did and still do think it was an irresponsible move on my behalf. The plan was for this exodus to be for one year sabbatical. So we packed our stuff once more and this time headed to Buenos Aires for some down time. The cost of living is cheap and the missus has family here.

After living the 'life of Reilly' for a year, a little phenomenon known as the global financial crisis has popped up it's ugly head and so my re-entry to the rat race has been somewhat delayed. Now I find myself trapped in a strange but fascinating land with little or no job prospects or earning potential.

Do I regret the choices I've made? - NOT ONE FUCKING BIT!
Do I need to find a job? - unfortunately yes - I didn't get paid the silly bonuses some of these Wall Street shafters pillaged for years - I live a frugal - thrifty lifestyle down here to make ends meet.

What will I do? Where will I go?

WATCH THIS SPACE! - Change be a coming in less than 5 days!

Tags: ..Irish in Buenos Aires, Irish expat in Argentina..

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