For those of you who don’t know/don’t remember/don’t care, ever since I became self-employed I have taken January off. I have been known to call it a sabatical, mainly because it sounded like I was doing something useful to further my career, which to be honest was rather misleading. The reasons for this hiatus have receded into the mists of time, something to do with short days, bad weather and reluctant clients, but remain unclear even to myself. Still, it gives me a nice break to wallow in left over crisps, chocolate and gin from Christmas and dream of springtime adventures. Each year, without exception, I have been champing at the bit to get back to work.
This year, safely ensconced our new abode, I have kept up this tradition, although I didn’t actually have many jobs to sabat from. I didn’t let this thwart me, and for the month of January I pottered and fidgeted and generally made poor use of my time. Same old, same old. Now, however, mobilisation is underway. The wagons are rolling.
Yesterday I returned to work (he might well dispute this fact) in Professor Gadget and his faithful sidekick’s garden. After the usual extensive debrief, coffee, HPS seed examination and discussion (something to do with me bagsying them all), coffee, garage door man arrival, coffee, garden tour, coffee, rose pruning, pasty, coffee, more rose pruning, I was on my way home via the local garden centre. That’s a better way to spend your day.
Today, I might have found myself another job. In fact I think I have. And I am hopeful it is going to be a good one. When I say good, I mean, dogs, blank canvas, someone who has faith. Fingers crossed.