Absence Makes The Heart Rejuvenated

If I were to take a quick straw poll of average humans on an average day in Averageville (Popn: Lots) asking how they thought their lives could be improved I’m willing to bet (don’t quote me, I don’t have a lot of spare cash right now) an above average number would claim that the addition of stuff (or indeed, things) would be the way to go.

And they’d be wrong.

Poor, sweet, hypothetical fools.

Today marked the end of my fourth week in a new job. People change jobs all the time of course, but for me, smack in the middle of my forties and with no experience of life with another employer on the African continent it was quite a scary leap.

It’s the best decision I’ve made in a very long time.

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On A Scale Of One To Kill Me Now

“Ah, come in Mark. Grab a chair. Thanks for making the time for this, I know how busy it gets.”

And so the small talk begins. Spare me the camaraderie. We are not the same. I bet if I poked a knife through your cardigan your blood would be yellow. Let’s be crystal clear; the only reason I’m only going through with this farce is the vague and likely misguided hope that it’ll nett me a slightly under inflation pay rise. Why is he staring…oh I suppose he wants me to speak…

“No problem Malcolm. I’m sure you’re busy as well.” Busy doing fuck all of any actual value.

“I’ve always got time for my staff Mark…”

Thank you O benevolent leader. I will lay gifts at your feet.

“…my door is always open…”

Except when it’s shut so you can do your fuck-all-of-value safe from the prying eyes and searching ears of us proles eh Malcolm? What’s underneath that jacket you permanently keep on the hook on the back of the door? Is your soul under there Malcolm? Does it mewl softly at you as you create another spreadsheet? Does it slide its soft, lost tendrils into your skull begging you to remember that once upon a time so very long ago you were…oh bollocks I need to speak again. Continue reading