Latest Blog Post

 

I wrote this on the morning of the 22nd of December, about 9 am. 

 

I'm sitting on the couch with my two dogs, both asleep.

 

It's the Ikea couch I built specifically for the dogs (well, I was told to build it by my boss, Alison). 

 

It's the first proper day of my time off work, sabbatical 7.0, the time that I take off work, that I talk about that people get annoyed at, mostly because they don't have the opportunity to do it themselves.

 

My life is a busy thing most of the time.

 

A lot of the time, my days are long, and they're filled with challenge after challenge, decision after decision or opportunity after opportunity.

 

 

• This person is leaving work, and they need replacing.

 

• This patient is unhappy because something like this has happened.

 

• There aren't enough people on this course.

 

• That patient's implant has just fallen out. 

 

• Someone just posted something totally inappropriate on social media. 

 

• This person's political views are at odds with your political views, and you shouldn't have anything to do with them.

 

 

Any other manner of things that spring up on a day-by-day basis that you have to look at and face up to and decide about or action or not.

 

And so, the days are hard going at times, but I wouldn't have it any other way, but the point of the sabbatical is to be the antidote to that.

 

It's a long-stated view in these pages that I want to try and work until I'm 85, but as I wake up first thing in the morning on most days, I think the chances of living to 85 (let alone working to 85) are limited.

 

I'm in my fifties now.

 

It takes me longer to unfold my face and whole body, and it's usually not until I'm halfway through the dog walk that I feel as if I'm in any way human. 

 

And so, Friday the 22nd of December at nine o'clock in the morning allowed me the opportunity just to stop for a few minutes.

 

The week running up to stopping was pretty hectic, and I didn't think that I would be finished by the time I got to nine o'clock on Friday morning; I thought I would be spending all of Friday morning catching up with the stuff that I hadn't done, but by sheer luck and chance, everything was finished by 6.30 pm the night before. 

 

It meant this morning I could stop.

 

Alison had gone to the horses early on; I dropped Callum at school; the girls were still in bed, and they would go to the horses later. 

 

It meant I had the first morning of my time off work, which would be almost seven weeks to do absolutely nothing.

 

I find it hard to do nothing (I'm actually writing this blog!), but I will take the time just for a few hours this morning to do as little as possible.

 

I'm not going to worry about the fact that my clothes feel tight and I need to lose weight.

 

I'm not going to worry about the fact that I'm sore from the training session I did on Wednesday, and I don't seem to be able to recover.

 

I'm not going to worry about the fact that the tasks in front of me are huge and vast, and really, I needed to get started three years ago, not have a morning off.

 

I'm going to breathe and settle.

 

I'm actually going to do this for the next week or so before I turn my attention to writing down what comes next.