The end is nigh

Jools has suggested how much better it would be to retire in Spring rather than the end of summer. And I can find no reason to argue, as long as we could afford it.

So, next month when we go to see the pension guy, we will ask him to recalculate an earlier date amybe from the start of April, when we are due to head to India.

So, that's the plan.

For me, work is longer enjoyable. I don't feel I offer the company anything, or what I do offer, they ignore. I may as well call it quits. We also have a ew manager, and in my experience at this company, will be my 11th manager is just over 11 years, and only two of them have been any good, the rest from ignorant to incompitent and worse.

Some managers you are pleased to speak to, others make your heart sink when you see thename either come up on Teams or the phone.

Life is too short to work with a poor manager. I mean I'll give the FNG a chance, but what we've heard, it's not good.

We shall see.

I left school in May 1982, right at the heart of Thatcherism and her war against the unions and state run industries. My generation had little hope of work, just a string of schemes with no chance of a job at the end of the six month placing, just being cheap labour to be exploited and let go so they could bring in another mug.

I worked in Boots, at a garage, did four hours as a short order chef (with no training), sold double glazing before getting a job in a chicken factory. I stayed five and a half years, and had "prospects". I was offered a (poor) salaried position the day the offer to join the RAF came. I chose the Blue Suits.

Fifteen years later, I left on bad terms, one bad SNCO killed what was left of my career, but had a place to live andmoney in the bank. I lollygagged aorund, burned through my savings and was nearly bankrupt.

I took to the ocean wave, surveying for three years, travelling to Indonesia, Norway and Kazakhstan​ before my second employer went bankrupt and I lost my job.

Sigh.

I fell into the wind industry, and here I am.

Worn out. Fed up fighting. Fighting to make things better, against a machine that doesn't seem to understand it has to get better. I have no more fight, if the machine wants to argue, I will just give up, raise my hands, turn round and walk away. And keep on walking.

All the way through, its to people I worked with that made it all bearable: Flod, Dick, Rambo, Scarecrow, Jap Sniper, Frub, Essex, Jooly, Jilly, Rory, Dick, Dave, Phil, Rune, Stffen, Henrik, Anni and dozens if not hundreds of people, whose friendship and warmth I treasure. Even if some don't appear to feel the same way.

So it goes, so it goes.