I managed to stay in the job for one and a half hours this morning, then I sloped off for my tea-break and kept right on walking...around the corner to Cafe Nero, stopping off on the way to buy a job paper. I just couldn't bear it for a minute longer; that lonlieness in a room full of people, all connected and talking into the ether - none of them speaking to each other. When I think of my days with my old people, even the thought of constant BBC1 is appealing; numb-bum syndrome is looking very attractive.
I've called several job options and asked for application forms to be sent out, including one for a part-time lollipop lady! That's a nice sociable job, isn't it? I want to talk to real people, bump shoulders and swap stories. I also called the WEA; I worked for them years ago, tutoring all kinds of stuff, but this time I'll restrict it to only those I love; creative writing and scrapbooking. I know that I hate teaching, but I can handle those - they are the only subjects that make me high as a seagull on the wind.
Perhaps I can make myself do a bit of writing on the novel - no excuses now that time is no object. I really think I will end up back in carework, though one of the jobs I will be applying for is a housekeeper in a temporary house for relatives of cancer patients in hospital.
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