Back to Work (LINK)
November 4th 2007 21:11
We’re now back in the UK after our month away in Europe and we no longer have a particular need to get up in the morning. No tourist stuff to do, no chores of any great importance, no need to exert ourselves.
In a way, it’s not a good place to be. At least before we went to Europe we were doing quite a bit of travelling around England, and getting ourselves out and about. Now we’re almost at the point of pointlessness. That’s not entirely true: we have to go and see some relatives again before we finally go back to New Zealand, but those aren’t things that require great exertion either.
I’m looking forward to getting home and getting my teeth into a job again, having a routine to the day, knowing that there’s a reason to get up in the morning.
The thought of retiring and not having anything to do appals me. In proper terms I could retire in three years. In reality, it’s unlikely, unless I’m ill or incapable (or dead). I’ve never been someone who could sit round doing nothing – I once worked in an office where there was a man who, when he’d finished what he had to do for the day, (and mostly he was finished by lunchtime) would sit at his desk with his arms folded until going home time. What a mind-numbing approach to work. (He wouldn’t get away with it now, but in those days he did.)
It’s unlikely that I’ll retire – in any complete sense – because I like to be doing something. I like my brain to be active. Certainly I like down-times as well, when I just read or watch tv or whatever, but doing that all day isn’t my cup of tea. The only times I’ve read a book all day is when it’s been something that’s gripped me: Les Miserables, for instance, particularly the last two hundred pages; the last hundred pages of Dickens’ The Tale of Two Cities; most Dick Francis novels, which I would get regularly at Christmas and have finished by Boxing Day. But that’s unusual.
So, I’m looking forward to getting back to some routine, some discipline, some time when all the things I find are worth doing each day can be slotted in again.
Don’t get me wrong: I’ve enjoyed being on holiday. But there’s only so much holiday a man can stand!
In a way, it’s not a good place to be. At least before we went to Europe we were doing quite a bit of travelling around England, and getting ourselves out and about. Now we’re almost at the point of pointlessness. That’s not entirely true: we have to go and see some relatives again before we finally go back to New Zealand, but those aren’t things that require great exertion either.
I’m looking forward to getting home and getting my teeth into a job again, having a routine to the day, knowing that there’s a reason to get up in the morning.
The thought of retiring and not having anything to do appals me. In proper terms I could retire in three years. In reality, it’s unlikely, unless I’m ill or incapable (or dead). I’ve never been someone who could sit round doing nothing – I once worked in an office where there was a man who, when he’d finished what he had to do for the day, (and mostly he was finished by lunchtime) would sit at his desk with his arms folded until going home time. What a mind-numbing approach to work. (He wouldn’t get away with it now, but in those days he did.)
It’s unlikely that I’ll retire – in any complete sense – because I like to be doing something. I like my brain to be active. Certainly I like down-times as well, when I just read or watch tv or whatever, but doing that all day isn’t my cup of tea. The only times I’ve read a book all day is when it’s been something that’s gripped me: Les Miserables, for instance, particularly the last two hundred pages; the last hundred pages of Dickens’ The Tale of Two Cities; most Dick Francis novels, which I would get regularly at Christmas and have finished by Boxing Day. But that’s unusual.
So, I’m looking forward to getting back to some routine, some discipline, some time when all the things I find are worth doing each day can be slotted in again.
Don’t get me wrong: I’ve enjoyed being on holiday. But there’s only so much holiday a man can stand!
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