wheresmytoad @ 2004-05-12 18:02:00

Current mood:

indecisive

Thinking about the future
In a desperate attempt to get my minds of N.E.W.T.s and the rat sighting this week (ugh), I am thinking about possible job offers. Specifically, and rather to my surprise, I've had two.

The first one is from St. Mungo's Hospital, an offer to join their magical botanical/pharmacology program. I wouldn't be training to be a healer or anything, nor brewing potions myself (thank Merlin), but I'd be doing research on raising magical plants to make into potions. I sent the write up of my winter herbology project to the program head--I've known her for years, actually--and they rather liked what they saw. So: that's offer number one.

The other one surprised me: Mr. Takakura owled me to offer me a job as Assistant groundskeeper at Heaton Hall. Yeah, I know, it doesn't sound like much, but Mr. Takakura reckons he could be teaching me everything he knows, about garden design, etc. and I might end up in charge of one of the greenhouses, or the orangery or something, for that beautiful Heaton Hall. Under the tutelage of one of the best master gardeners I've ever had the privilege to know.

On the other hand, Mr. Takakura did let drop in his letter oh-so-casually that Sara might be working there next summer, too. Awkward.

It was rather funny to read Gran's response when I told her about the two offers. If I took the Heaton Hall job, it would mean I'd be--well, not living back home, I'd don't plan to do that. But Gran and I would be living in the same city at least. But it's a muggle job (or at least mostly: Mr. Takakura is a wizard, and I suspect he uses magic at his job more than he lets on), and that doesn't sit well with Gran.

But if I took the St. Mungo's job, I would be living in London. And that, to Gran, means that she can't be checking that I'm clearing my dinner plate every evening. To me that's probably an advantage.

But then, St. Mungo's has other associations for me, too, some of them painful. . .

I've written them both back, and asked for a little more time to decide. But I'll have to let them know soon.

Hard to believe. Just six weeks, and we'll be leaving school (if we survive N.E.W.T.s, that is).

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