Mad house

This week was the sixth of my two-days-a-week-for-six-weeks temporary contract with my old employer. This morning I had my first meeting with my line manager (I didn't even know who was 'managing' me until last week) and I've been asked to stay on indefinitely at three days a week, which is what I've been working anyway.

Even though going back to work after 30 months of retirement has made me see the whole of my working life in a disconcertingly different light I agreed: it will enable others, who are much more stressed than I am, to work with the recently arrived refugees from Afghanistan and, selfishly, it will help with the escalating costs of my much-delayed house rebuilding, whenever that happens.

Right now it feels as if I will never, ever catch up with Blip, my life or anything so I am going into hermit mode. I will blip when I can and I will leave comments switched on because I know that's generally what people prefer (but please don't feel obliged) though I am unlikely to reply. I will look at blips but I probably won't comment. I promise I'm just trying to survive, not being unfriendly.

I forced myself out this afternoon to find something that would fit with what I wanted to say. Sometimes the world makes you smile.