Thursday, November 14, 2019

Creeping Christmas

So, here we are, heading into the 'most wonderful time of the year'.  Well, according to the TV commercials, at least.  Oh, and Crapchester  town centre, where the festive lights are going up and the temporary village of shonky looking sheds that constitute the 'Christmas Market' are appearing.  The latter keep coming back year after year, despite the fact that nobody ever seems to buy anything from them.  Probably because, in the main, they sell over priced tat.  Apparently, tomorrow marks the official 'switching on' of the lights in the shopping centre, so it must be Christmas, creeping up on us, as always.  As ever, none of this is putting me in a festive mood.  For one thing, it is still far too early: Christmas shouldn't start before December, in my opinion.  For another, I've got too many other things on my mind.  To the extent that I can't actually settle to do anything - I keep thinking about doing stuff, but never actually do any of it.  It doesn't help that there's this bloody general election campaign going on in the background - that alone is enough to kill any feelings of goodwill toward all men.  But, as ever, my work situation continues to dominate my thoughts.  I know, I know - I keep on about it but never seem to do anything about it, (in common with the rest of my life right now).

Which is fair enough.  Other than racking up National Insurance contributions for my pension, I really don't know why I'm still there.  Neither does anyone else.  Everyone - family, best friend, random people on the street - all keep asking me the same thing: are you still doing that bloody job?  I was asking myself the same thing last week, after wasting two days at a 'training event' (during which no training actually took place).  When it was over and I was back at home, I actually heard myself asking, out loud, 'What are you doing?' - those forty eight hours had made it clear that I really don't want to do the job any more and that I have nothing in common with my co-workers.  But, as ever, it is a case of convincing myself that it is OK to walk away, that financially I'm good for the foreseeable future without a job.  It's that loss of security that a job brings which holds most of us back from leaving, I'm sure.  Although, in truth, it is an illusion - the bastards can sack you at any time.  I also have the worry that, at my age, finding some sort of alternative employment could be difficult.  It isn't that I'm not looking into possible alternatives, but I have to be absolutely sure that I could actually be happy doing any of them - I don't want to be trapped in another dull and unsatisfying job.  So, there you have it - the latest update on my life.  As ever, nothing seems to have changed.  But hey!  Christmas is coming, so joy to all!



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