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caddymanThose of you who know me will recognise (I hope) that I have a buoyant personality. I’ll leave it to you to decide whether or not it is an engaging one, but I think even someone who doesn’t much care for my presence would admit that I am a “glass half full” sort of bloke.
That said, twenty-four years (which is what it will be at the end of this month) of putting up with the endless and tiresome drivel this place and its antecedents routinely pours over a body for no regard or reward is taking its toll. It is getting harder to get up and wind my way in here in a morning; I find that I no longer really care and that even those areas of work that I would previously have found interesting no longer really engage my interest.
And it’s cumulative, this sapping of the will and morale. The place drains you just a little faster than you can replenish it, so every day the reserve of patience is a little lower and a little quicker to exhaust. I may have mistimed my holiday plans by about a week. I am taking the week leading up to Easter off. I almost think that I should have taken the week before that off, or even this week. The batteries need a recharge and the cylinders, a re-bore. In the longer term I think I need a more complete change: just holding down a job isn’t really enough at the moment.
I thought that I’d had my mid life crisis about ten years ago; for about fifteen minutes after a particularly brutal drinking session down the Bedford Arms in Clapham. Damn it, I think I’m having another one now.
Give me twenty minutes to get my head back together.
That said, twenty-four years (which is what it will be at the end of this month) of putting up with the endless and tiresome drivel this place and its antecedents routinely pours over a body for no regard or reward is taking its toll. It is getting harder to get up and wind my way in here in a morning; I find that I no longer really care and that even those areas of work that I would previously have found interesting no longer really engage my interest.
And it’s cumulative, this sapping of the will and morale. The place drains you just a little faster than you can replenish it, so every day the reserve of patience is a little lower and a little quicker to exhaust. I may have mistimed my holiday plans by about a week. I am taking the week leading up to Easter off. I almost think that I should have taken the week before that off, or even this week. The batteries need a recharge and the cylinders, a re-bore. In the longer term I think I need a more complete change: just holding down a job isn’t really enough at the moment.
I thought that I’d had my mid life crisis about ten years ago; for about fifteen minutes after a particularly brutal drinking session down the Bedford Arms in Clapham. Damn it, I think I’m having another one now.
Give me twenty minutes to get my head back together.