My year in words
Tomorrow my mini-break to Scotland comes to an abrupt end as I head back to the real world. In what will probably be the longest commute ever, I need to travel the 459 miles from Cupar to Enfield as I'm due to be on shift at 1pm. I reckon dedication to ones profession to that extent is rarely seen outside of hospitals, and to traverse such a distance in time involves leaving the house at 7am tomorrow. I am not looking forward to it. I was happily chatting away earlier to friends of my parents, Sue and Ceri, an immensely likeable couple with whom we've been friends with since I was about three years old, and telling them about my longing to quit retail and do something different for a while.
Sue and Ceri are the sort of people that are no longer at the stage where everything is taken seriously - the same as my parents in that respect. The sort of age where you've gotten pretty much all you can from your career, waiting until you can retire into a life of whisky tastings and endless tinkering. The sort of age where if you haven't already got one, it becomes mandatory to own a shed. The sort of age I'm looking forward to being, because it's the closest you'll ever get to being as care-free as a young adult, but with all the wisdom and knowledge of an older one. Ceri is a solicitor as is my Dad, and sold my flat for me last year. They lost their 20 year old daughter only a few months ago, so the end of the year has been difficult for them, but this evening they were on top form, which is more than commendable. You will rarely meet a more genial couple.
It became clear during the conversation that not only is my time as a resident of London (and, albeit temporarily, the UK) coming to an end, but so is an era of my life. I'm not sure the era can be succinctly summarised, but it does definately feel like it, which is the most important thing I suppose. I also came to the conclusion (with Sue and Ceri's help) that the break I am about to embark on, after six and a half years of working in retail, is well deserved.
So that's it then, 2006 was a year where I got a bit of a change of scenery, proved to myself that I can be a manager in a supermarket in a slightly more challenging location than Cupar, and was parted from the love of my life by the lure of travelling. I also made one or two new friends, proving that I'm not a miserly old sod yet, and probably drank more alcohol in six months than I had done in the previous six years combined. Hardly the most notable of achievements I know, but they mean something to me, and it's a year I will always recall fondly.
I read a few journal entries from the summer earlier, and I didn't realise it at the time, but my summer actually had a theme. Alot of people can talk about a year, and say things like "Ahh, that was the year when the gang and I went to Glastonbury" or "that was the summer we spent on beaches in Cornwall learning to surf". When I recall 2006, the summer seems to have been filled with drinking in pubs with Jen and her friends in various Surrey towns and villages. Guildford, Richmond and Kingston, to name but few. So despite the feeling that I didn't do anything this summer, I enjoyed it immensely, and my only regret is that I didn't document it in more detail. Kingston is a lovely place, somewhere I could quite happily settle. I said it at the time, but it really does remind me of Dundee.
So the long, hot summer was punctuated by several bursts of adventure, and when not in pubs Jen and I were in theme parks, so I suppose I should recall that aspect of the summer too. We had a lovely weekend up at Alton Towers, and spent many a day baking in the sun at Thorpe Park.
It is regrettable that my fabulous summer, which lasted from May to September, was bookended by two periods of what was (and is) essentially waiting, the beginning of the year when I was waiting for a job to come up in London, and the end of the year, when I am waiting for February to come so I can pack my bags and be with Jen again. But I can't let that detract from what was really a lovely year overall. All I want now is for things to pick up again. That can't be too much to ask for, can it?
Sue and Ceri are the sort of people that are no longer at the stage where everything is taken seriously - the same as my parents in that respect. The sort of age where you've gotten pretty much all you can from your career, waiting until you can retire into a life of whisky tastings and endless tinkering. The sort of age where if you haven't already got one, it becomes mandatory to own a shed. The sort of age I'm looking forward to being, because it's the closest you'll ever get to being as care-free as a young adult, but with all the wisdom and knowledge of an older one. Ceri is a solicitor as is my Dad, and sold my flat for me last year. They lost their 20 year old daughter only a few months ago, so the end of the year has been difficult for them, but this evening they were on top form, which is more than commendable. You will rarely meet a more genial couple.
It became clear during the conversation that not only is my time as a resident of London (and, albeit temporarily, the UK) coming to an end, but so is an era of my life. I'm not sure the era can be succinctly summarised, but it does definately feel like it, which is the most important thing I suppose. I also came to the conclusion (with Sue and Ceri's help) that the break I am about to embark on, after six and a half years of working in retail, is well deserved.
So that's it then, 2006 was a year where I got a bit of a change of scenery, proved to myself that I can be a manager in a supermarket in a slightly more challenging location than Cupar, and was parted from the love of my life by the lure of travelling. I also made one or two new friends, proving that I'm not a miserly old sod yet, and probably drank more alcohol in six months than I had done in the previous six years combined. Hardly the most notable of achievements I know, but they mean something to me, and it's a year I will always recall fondly.
I read a few journal entries from the summer earlier, and I didn't realise it at the time, but my summer actually had a theme. Alot of people can talk about a year, and say things like "Ahh, that was the year when the gang and I went to Glastonbury" or "that was the summer we spent on beaches in Cornwall learning to surf". When I recall 2006, the summer seems to have been filled with drinking in pubs with Jen and her friends in various Surrey towns and villages. Guildford, Richmond and Kingston, to name but few. So despite the feeling that I didn't do anything this summer, I enjoyed it immensely, and my only regret is that I didn't document it in more detail. Kingston is a lovely place, somewhere I could quite happily settle. I said it at the time, but it really does remind me of Dundee.
So the long, hot summer was punctuated by several bursts of adventure, and when not in pubs Jen and I were in theme parks, so I suppose I should recall that aspect of the summer too. We had a lovely weekend up at Alton Towers, and spent many a day baking in the sun at Thorpe Park.
It is regrettable that my fabulous summer, which lasted from May to September, was bookended by two periods of what was (and is) essentially waiting, the beginning of the year when I was waiting for a job to come up in London, and the end of the year, when I am waiting for February to come so I can pack my bags and be with Jen again. But I can't let that detract from what was really a lovely year overall. All I want now is for things to pick up again. That can't be too much to ask for, can it?
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