The Last Seven Painful Days Before Leaving

Well I have been without a contract for 5 days now and I had begun to think they were just stringing me along telling me I would get a contract and not to worry as I had threatened to leave the site as soon as my contract had expired, but to my surprise it arrived in the mail this morning so I can leave site knowing I am going to get paid after all and I will be travelling on to some other place in the near future. I wasn’t even worried about not getting a contract and I surprised myself with that, I was even thinking how nice it would be to have all the summer off and maybe take another contract next autumn in the USA as the job front for controls guys has blossomed lately and I have seen many offers but the money is appalling to say it would be taxable. I think the salaries being paid is about the same as ten years ago and that isn’t an incentive to make me leave this job and settle my feet under a table in Arkansas or some other backwater without a cinema and the local sport is shooting small furry things all day long. So I will be working international in the future but I am worried that they may ask me to go to some shithole in china where I have a buddy or even India which is an even bigger shithole where I have another old buddy telling me the rainy season has started. Well the rainy season has erupted here with just buckets pouring down all day. Quite depressing really, it is almost worse than the UK for the rain as when you get inside in the UK you can warm up, here the A/C is running and it chills you to the marrow and I was even shivering I was so cold, but if you wear a waterproof jacket you get as wet on the inside as you just sweat like a thoroughbred racehorse and smell twice as bad. The perspiration problem with a tropical country is nothing but a race against the bacteria that invade you warm and sweaty areas. As soon as you shower you have to wear anti-perspirant or within a few hours your armpits can stink like you have been harbouring a rotten cabbage in them, and unfortunately the locals who are as poor as hell and haven’t got a pot to piss in never mind a shower, usually stink to high heaven, some of the women are so rotten that it is impossible to stay in the same room as them when they come in to clean up, we did call them the mingettes, and proper minging they were to, good lord they were almost hovering off the ground with the odorous vapours pouring off them.
There is a potential leaving party in town this coming weekend and I am not looking forward to it as I am not happy about getting back there with all the muggers and aggressive prostitutes hanging about the place, I only go out for a laugh and a beer and it is impossible to have that sort of night out when you are constantly being harassed by the local whores who are only trying to make a living but it isn’t my cup of tea and I am hoping that the party ends up in the clubhouse where I have a 5 minute walk back to my room, the last thing I want to do is wake up with a pulsating head at 9.00am 3 hours late for work in some tin shed with a naked stinky prostitute at the side of me with a big smile on her face and I not remember anything. That was something one of the other contractors had to face up to, when he asked for the toilet he was pointed at a tin door and when he opened it he was faced with a hole in a dirt floor of a small tin outhouse. Not for me not in the slightest.