Strange Notations From a Laborious Life

 It’s as cold as a spinster’s thighs outside and it follows a foul weekend of weather which has crowned the Brindabella mountains with a majestic cover of snow making for a very pleasant view as you drive into the Tuggeranong Valley.

 I had grand thoughts of venturing out walking, wandering over the Wanniassa Hills this morning but the thickly coated frost on the grass has seen to it that I wind back ambition and concentrate on being a ‘man of letters” for this morning at least. I may sneak out for some exercise when I finish this post even if it is only a lap of the block. It’s time I started to recover some fitness.

 After that, all I have to look forward to is another grim day of tedium at work and the ever dwindling supply of product which we have to process. Our diminishing industry is a little worrying. I am too far from retirement to contemplate giving the job away and becoming a man of leisure. Post letters people! You may just save a few livelihoods.

 I am in no danger of losing my job. There will always be a place for me but just where and at what times and what I would be doing would be the problem.

 I am three weeks out from a leave break and I really need it. I am finding work to be a mentally challenging fortress which I am having trouble storming. The dull grind. The cynical people. The backstabbers. The liars. The dobbers. All getting me down. I feel like a redcoat at Isandlwana, surrounded by a sea of hostile Zulus, fighting to the death with no relief in sight. An assegai to the gut the only release. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that!

I can handle the monotony of the work but what is really getting to me lately is the cocoon like atmosphere. It’s like a black hole from which no light escapes. We are insulated from the world, cut off, alone for hours with only a half hour dinner break to catch the breaking news or find out how the rest of the world is faring.

 It’s like being adrift on the ocean in a barrel. Put the lid on at the start of the shift and set us loose. Pop the cork at the end and we can retreat to our lives and the colour and the flesh which accompanies normal living.

 Those three weeks until my holidays roll around can’t come soon enough. It will give me time to recover from my exertions and contemplate the future of my employment and look where that path may lead in the future.

 But for now there is only one road forward and I put my shoulder to the wind and press on into the teeth of the gale as I expect all who are reading are also doing. There is no way to face but the front. We will survive and we will prosper.

 Have a nice day.