Friday 28th August 2015

Thursday

It is said, by some, that we can never go back. And indeed this is mostly true.

It all dates back to last time I was in Ramsgate, and I took my old boss out to breakfast. As you do. Anyway, he said he would return the favour next time I was in town. So, after exchanging mails we agreed that it would be Thursday.

This meant alternative methods for Jools to get to work in Hythe, then me braving the rush hour, as it is, to Ramsgate.

It is some months since I travelled to the office, and it seems the manic drivers have not changed, but I dd get to the harbour in one piece, gain access to the car park, and then I had to find a place to work. THere is a new manager, so I introduced myself, he said to take a spare desk in his office.

I worked for a while, then went to meet up with old friends, only to find them miserable in the extreme.

In the extension office next door, I did find my Jesper, who was as good as always, and despite be tweaking his cracked ribs, it was great to catch up with him and Malcolm. My old boss, Ian, came in. And it turned out he is on a health kick, and cannot have a fry up, and anyway he has work to do. So it is all scrubbed.

I walk back to the other office, and it is all so depressing. I decide that nothing can be gained from working here, and I may as well go home. So, after chatting with Peter, it is what I do; load the car and drive back home, arriving home just before eleven, and as ever, I am hungry.

So I make a sandwich from the left over focaccia and have a big brew before getting back to work. Of course, feeding the cats comes first.

Outside the rain hammers down like it has for days now, soon the garden is swimming in rainwater. The cats sit inside, looking out. Meowing.

In short, I have realised there is no place for me there, I have so outgrown those I used to work beside and consider friends. They have no idea what I do now, nor do I sometimes, but I tell Peter that other than a social visit, there is no need for me to ever come back. Which he accepts.

Jools get the bus home, and I collect her from town, but it means a late dinner, and so we are eating chorizo hash at seven, and after tidying up, its nearly eight. Where does the time go, people?