Bye desk days
After 23 years of desk work, through the days and sometimes the nights, this is my last week as an office worker. Next week I will be a full time potter. It seems strange that such a big change can take place like that. What no marching bands? Can I just step out from 23 years of structure and suits and coffee machines to a new life of clay, clogs and shed freedom. Doesn't someone need to check my passport or something? It feels a bit illegal, like a prison break.
Its become apparent that 23 years of office work makes you more or less institutionalised. So underneath the euphoria is a little fear about the space that freedom creates. Its blooming vast. It feels like vertigo from the top of a beautiful mountain. Part of you is full of euphoric wonder at the view and the fact that you got there at all. Another part of you is gasping at the exposure. What no safety barriers...?
Its ok, if I get really scared, I'll draw myself up a timetable... Monday 6am, cycle to Hyde Park and do boot camp (i.e. start the week with intent and in a manner not to make my husband crawl with jealousy). 8am cycle home from Hyde Park. 9.30am... shed.... Shed Monday.... music to my ears. I expect the view from there will be just fine.