Dearly departed

Three more days to work. About four more weeks before we move to the sticks. The trouble with getting what you want is…well, then you don’t have any more excuses. “Oh, if I only didn’t have to work for a few months and I lived in a beautiful cottage in the country, then my son could have the perfect childhood, and I would have the time and space to write, and everything would just be perfect perfect perfect…”

So here I am. As my grandmother would say (after checking no-one else could hear), “shit or get off the pot”. No more excuses. Today, what seemed like seemed like ocean-wide ocean-deep endless time, stretching ceaselessly before me, well, it seems like no time at all. I can hear the thud-thud-thud of a clock and I’m panicking. I’m worried that I don’t have a clear enough idea about what I will do. I think that maybe (no maybe) I should have done a lot more preparation. Should have thought more, planned more. Done more.

I’m finding it hard to focus today. I’ve spent most of the last few months working from home, as have others, going into the office once a week. Mostly because it’s a lot easier (and I can get away with it now), but also if I’m being strictly honest, because it’s just so depressing. We don’t even have leaving parties now, people just send an email, then…that’s it. My work family. Some people I’ve been friends with for years. Gone. With social media, we keep in touch, but that also makes what is happening seem more removed.

Someone made a chart on the wall, “Dearly Departed” in gothic script, with the name plates below of everyone as they left. It started out as darkly humorous, but when they posted a picture of it on leaving themselves last Friday (no fanfare, no-one there that day) reality came back with a thump. I have absolutely no love for the corporation, but I do love the people I worked with. It’s much easier when you chose to leave a job, to leave people behind, because those people are still there. Next Monday everyone will be gone. A site that had over 1000 employees will be silent.

I’m not sure where this post is going, so I’m going to sign off now.

Possibilities, hope and wonder

Someone once said “when life hands you lemons, make lemonade”. Someone else said “when life hands you lemons, make grape juice and watch while the world asks you how you did it”. I prefer this version. It speaks to me of possibilities, hope, wonder, and a huge dose of optimism.

In a few short days I will be embarking on a small life experiment. I want to see if being free of the career that has preoccupied far too many of my waking (and sleeping) thoughts for the last 20 years will enable me to realize my dream. At the moment this “dream” is no more than a few fledgling thoughts, vague ideas germinating and evolving over time, a vision of how I would like my life to be. What I really want to do. How I want to live. What I think would make me feel more fulfilled.

As I sit at my desk today, the future seems full of possibilities. Full of hope and wonder.

Fortunately, I am also hugely optimistic by nature….