The fish factory is actually a pretty okay place to work - I felt really positive about the first day, although I think at least part of that was relief that I didn't hate it... It really could have gone either way, but it all worked out fine: Everyone is really nice, I get my own knives, there are lots of regular breaks, and the food is yummy - just a table full of bread and cheese and jam, a buffet of raw fruit and veg, and a fridge full of skyr and yoghurt, plus all the Kókómjólk* you can drink!
*Kókómjólk is a packaged chocolate milk drink, totally delicious and awesome. Ask Anna, if you don't believe me. Mmm, Kókómjólk.
I also ended up working at functions on Friday and Saturday night at the bar down the road - which should have been fine, as the fish place is usually Monday to Friday. For the next couple of weeks, however, everyone is working Saturdays so that they can make up the hours over Christmas and New Years', so we can get paid holidays. Awesome, but also not.
Friday night was the closing party for the slaughterhouse; so there were many many drunken Icelanders, Poles and New Zealanders. It was a really fun night, everyone was in a good, partying mood, the staff were all really efficient and friendly, and the New Zealanders even did the haka! I got to leave at midnight, which I suspect was just before things started to get messy... Lucky me!
Saturday morning, Ross and I got up at five to go to work at six! I was pretty chipper for the first couple of hours, but was pretty much dead on my feet by the time we finished. Sigga, being the angel that she is, came to pick us up - it's about a five or ten minute walk, but at that point, it felt like the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me. So thoughtful.
I had a nap before the party, but I think I slept just a little bit too long - woke up completely confused and grumpy. Actual conversation between me and Ross:
R: Wake up, sweetheart.
R: Wake up.
O: Oh. What's the time?
R: Five thirty.
O: Okay. Why?
R: Why what?
O: (pause) What's the time?
Etcetera. We went around in circles for a while, then I eventually woke up enough to get dressed and ready. Sigga, again proving her sainthood, had already cooked the curry for dinner, and even made me some pappadums and rice so I could eat before I left.
This function was the Lions yearly party, less of a bawdy drunken feast than the slaughterhouse party, but everyone still managed to have a good time. I met a whole group of people who went to school with mum, all of whom were pleased as punch that I'd moved here. People always seem quite surprised and happy that anyone would choose to move here, maybe it makes them realise how lovely Sauðárkrókur is...
Anyway, I got to go home early again (early being midnight, the rest of them were working til four!) and came to Sigga's to unwind a bit before bed. Then I had the best sleep ever. There is nothing like that feeling when you're so deliciously tired from working hard, and you know you're about to sleep for as long as you want. Bliss.
Also, check out what reader just recommended for me:
Holy crap, knitted skeleton! Google, if this is what comes from collecting and storing all my information, then keep at it!