A small moment of reflection as it p*sses down with rain here and prevents me taking the shears to my front lawn as I've been trying to for a week now.
It struck me yesterday while at the wake just how different I am from the muppet who left Ipswich nearly four years ago now; it's partially the job but mainly I suppose the experience. As much as I love my folks, I'm not altogether sure that I could go back and be the same person I was back then - in fact I know damned well that I couldn't. I'm more ... well, I like things done my way, which involves a lot less farting around; and I'm far happier with the bin liner - haven't got anything like the crap hoarding instincts that my olds have. As much as I've let the Stress Pixies get me and screw me up in the last couple of years, the insecurity, paranoia and trouble that was caused; I've definately become a different and in my humble opinion, better man. I'm seeking my way and my path; can't find it at the moment, but I know I want it and a status quo of moving home and just doing the bimbling things I've always done just won't do. Maybe that means that I'll be unfulfilled in life, suppose that's OK so long as I be unfulfillled honestly and don't compromise myself, take less than I want, be less than I can, just because it's simpler, easier or expected. Suppose my pathways are ones that brighter people take at uni, but I never went... was easier just to rest in the warmth and security of the hometown, regular if undemanding work, regular friends and haunts and just bimble along having a comfortable 40% life. Do not much. Now I know I've moved on from that, if a little late, but there's folks my age who still haven't done it and never will.
I've started the trip, I just don't know where it's coming out.
I do know that I don't see the future in Grimsby; and I'm not altogether sure I want to pick up my retirement present and say to myself "whole career in just one place?". Security is nice and the money's good but apart from the fact that my station is the most disorganised sack of kack it's ever been my displeasure to be associated with, I'm just not sure that it wouldn't be a terrible waste of life, brain and time to spend the whole of the remainder of my working life doing something I don't think works very well and I have moral issues with how we do it. My heart is telling me where to move to; my brain is telling me to stick with the job for the time being and make my moves within a framework that continues to pay money for old rope, and not to jump stupidly. Life's a hell of a lot easier if you've got beauty and even just intellectual satisfaction in it. Suppose I can live with a lack of emotional fulfillment for a while if the other boxes are ticked.
It struck me yesterday while at the wake just how different I am from the muppet who left Ipswich nearly four years ago now; it's partially the job but mainly I suppose the experience. As much as I love my folks, I'm not altogether sure that I could go back and be the same person I was back then - in fact I know damned well that I couldn't. I'm more ... well, I like things done my way, which involves a lot less farting around; and I'm far happier with the bin liner - haven't got anything like the crap hoarding instincts that my olds have. As much as I've let the Stress Pixies get me and screw me up in the last couple of years, the insecurity, paranoia and trouble that was caused; I've definately become a different and in my humble opinion, better man. I'm seeking my way and my path; can't find it at the moment, but I know I want it and a status quo of moving home and just doing the bimbling things I've always done just won't do. Maybe that means that I'll be unfulfilled in life, suppose that's OK so long as I be unfulfillled honestly and don't compromise myself, take less than I want, be less than I can, just because it's simpler, easier or expected. Suppose my pathways are ones that brighter people take at uni, but I never went... was easier just to rest in the warmth and security of the hometown, regular if undemanding work, regular friends and haunts and just bimble along having a comfortable 40% life. Do not much. Now I know I've moved on from that, if a little late, but there's folks my age who still haven't done it and never will.
I've started the trip, I just don't know where it's coming out.
I do know that I don't see the future in Grimsby; and I'm not altogether sure I want to pick up my retirement present and say to myself "whole career in just one place?". Security is nice and the money's good but apart from the fact that my station is the most disorganised sack of kack it's ever been my displeasure to be associated with, I'm just not sure that it wouldn't be a terrible waste of life, brain and time to spend the whole of the remainder of my working life doing something I don't think works very well and I have moral issues with how we do it. My heart is telling me where to move to; my brain is telling me to stick with the job for the time being and make my moves within a framework that continues to pay money for old rope, and not to jump stupidly. Life's a hell of a lot easier if you've got beauty and even just intellectual satisfaction in it. Suppose I can live with a lack of emotional fulfillment for a while if the other boxes are ticked.
posted by Fred the Singing Bandit at 10:11 am
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home