Maybe it was all the drinking I did over the long Bank Holiday weekend, or maybe it’s because the barely endurable stress and tension of the past few months has finally been resolved, but I’ve been knackered this week. Really dog tired, in a way that causes my eyelids to start drooping around 8pm. This has been a bit of a blow to my plans to prepare a little more actively for the career break, but I think I’m just going to have to pace myself and accept that I’m going to be as busy throughout my notice period as I’ve ever been.
Mentally I’m in great shape though. I still feel calm and positive about the whole thing, with no regrets. My ideas on exactly how long the break “should” last and how I’m going to approach the career re-evaluation tend to vary from day to day, but I suppose I’m just being a bit impatient in expecting to have everything figured out at such an early stage. The idea is to take the time to work through the process; if clarity or certainty were so easily come by, I wouldn’t need the career break in the first place. In any case, I want to enjoy the journey as much as the destination.
Mrs Hg tells me to take things one day at a time, which is good advice. My natural inclination is to plan, to extrapolate and to anticipate, but a couple of months of living in the moment won’t do me any harm at all. In the meantime, I have two more weeks of work to complete, which I’ve committed to handling to the same standards that I’ve set myself over the previous sixteen years. It’s not quite time to rest yet, but it’s all underpinned by a fabulous sense of closure and completion that imparts an underlying sense of serenity.
In addition to the comments on the previous entry, I’ve been receiving supportive messages by e-mail. Apologies for the lack of response to some of them and also for the inaction on other stalled promises (MP3s, photos to be published, Flickr invitations, and so on). It’s all being stored up for the weekend, assuming I don’t sleep right through. The little energy that I have this week is going in more pressing directions, like drawing up my financial plan, transferring my mobile phone (back) from the company to me, getting into Series 2 of Lost and contemplating transport.
On which note, please excuse me while I transform this site into a personal Exchange & Mart. Is anyone selling a car at the moment? Preferably a 5-door, ten year-old VW Golf for around £1,500, but I’d go a teeny bit higher for something suitable and would also consider other roomy hatchbacks (e.g. Peugeot 306) in a similar price range. Alternatively, are there any car freaks in the audience who can pass on any tips for better choices?
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Ooh, I own a 5-door ten-year-old Golf! But I’m not selling it. Sorry. Good choice though.
“My natural inclination is to plan, to extrapolate and to anticipate, but a couple of months of living in the moment won’t do me any harm at all.”
Hahaha, we are lost secret twins. My guess is that, if we are indeed secret lost twins, there’s no way on earth you’ll get through the next few months without making a billion plans. That’s OK though. There’s nothing wrong with making plans. It’s fun.
I can do you a 10-year old 5 door Vauxhall Corsa (the family has outgrow it) but it is very well lived in, so I really wouldn’t want to know the person who bought it
There is a form of gardening that is the antithesis of TV makeover gardening (“whip in some decking, plant hundreds of correctly sized shrubs; have a bbq”) known as permaculture. Permaculturists “recommend a non-intervening observation period of at least twelve months” which is perhaps a bit extreme, not to mention lazy.
However, this “thoughtful in-action” sounds like just what you need. How can you plan what you are going to do in the future before you’ve even stopped working? I like your idea of living in the moment and you should spend a month just looking at the garden as your current thoughts will unconsciously be clouded (dare I say limited) by your current job.
I forgot to provide a link — http://www.spiralseed.co.uk/lifestyle/
I should also add that my garden suffered under my non-intervening observation period as it lasted 5 years. Oops.
Clare – hopefully now I’m in a position to make some of the plans actually happen, rather than fantasies that evaporate into nothing as I spend yet another evening or weekend recovering from work.
Paul – I’ll pass on the car, thanks. Partly because you’ve done such a terrible job of selling it, but mainly because I don’t think I’d fit into it. Isn’t the Corsa fairly small, kind of like the older VW Polo or the Peugeot 106?
The gardening stuff, on the other hand, is very interesting. I’ve come to appreciate the whole Slow Down concept over the past few years, having come to the realisation that living life in one long, ongoing adrenalised rush was no good for me. Using some of the advice in that page as a metaphor for my current situation is a neat approach. I especially like “Don’t just do something, sit there!”