‘All there is to thinking is seeing something noticeable which makes you see something you weren’t noticing which makes you see something that isn’t even visible.’ (Norman Maclean)

And so dear listener, the new year moves on and some decisions have been made. I plan, for example, to continue to keep it simple – but is that a decision? The move to day-time working continues and a wee bit more of what I’ll miss about working nights will get highlighted later….and I need your help in the matter of holidays. Please.

Y’see, whilst I enjoyed my couple of days in Lisbon a couple of years ago for the novelty if nothing else, there did come a cup of single person coffee in a café overlooking the river when I thought, ‘Okay, maybe Tinderbox in Byres Road or Prince’s Square doesn’t have the same view but it’s one helluva lot easier to get to…’ or similar. 🙂

I don’t think I’m much of a lone traveller anyway and I did get out of the holiday habit some time ago. It’s a bit of a freelance thing where you worry about missing out on work but I always found meeting new people – journalistically or otherwise – gives me a real lift anyway. (That’s actually meeting people and not looking at a menu of sixteen suggested matches where I still feel guilty if I look at a profile and not then send a message)

So I woke up one morning dead early and thought I’m just going to go and find somewhere in the UK where I can go and just say ‘some weather, eh?’ and they’ll know what I’m talking about. 🙂

I mentioned this at a board meeting with e later that day (Tinderbox in Byres Road since you ask) and her suggestion made a lot of sense; rather than a posh country house hotel with large swimming pool which I wouldn’t use or a remote island where the only attraction is the local distillery and its product, ‘why don’t you consider an activity/residential holiday?’

And this is where you, the listener, comes in. I am looking for suggestions. 😉

Bear in mind that I don’t swim (never really learned to) and I don’t cycle (somewhere during Cold Turkey and the nine/ten day stay in hospital, I lost a large part of my balance and whilst I was able to overcome certain fears in absailing and zipwiring, I think there would still be an unsteadiness in activities like cycling)

But other than that I am pretty liberal in my thoughts. I have started a list but only the beginnings of one. Buddhist retreat? Maybe. Learn to paint with watercolours? Perhaps. Being taken in by a complete stranger? Interesting. And you don’t have to come with me but it is a blank sheet of paper on the computer screen………..

And on the question of holidays, I seem to have to take a lot of time off in lieu (TOIL) or actual Annual Leave before the end of March, so I am available for so many things –  including overtime……..my diary is possibly the most flexible it’s been for some time. I’m jt850/iaint850, try me. And I’ll possibly keep you posted on suggestions. 🙂

And so to the night shifts. I have one more rota’d shift and then I become established part-time days, which mean working two-three shifts of varying durations (6, 7 or 8 hours) between seven in the morning and ten at night and with a totally different set of responsibilities.

And I mentioned last week problems associated with agency, irregular part-time hours and zero hours contracts and their effect on people’s lives. It’s not just that I can’t get to the football cos I’m working; it’s cos I was working the night before and the sleazebag capitalists who run the world have brought forward the kick-off time of Thistle’s home game to 12.15 and I get to my bed at 8.30 in the morning and sleep though my eleven o’clock alarm and wake up at 11.30 and it’s just too late to get to the game…….Quality of life?

Or a single parent who doesn’t know if she’ll get enough hours to pay for Christmas presents for her children. 😦

But more of that another time.

Will I miss anything about working nights?

Y’mean like watching people pour out of the various pubs and clubs in the area at three in the morning and gaze  in wonderment at how the pre-booked private hire taxis somehow manage to find their fares even though they’re miles away from the Southside or Kirkintilloch or Paisley?

Or taking full bin bags round to the big bins in the alleyway around the corner at about five in the morning and having to apologise to a courting couple for interrupting them?

Or the night early one Monday morning when there was a feeling of pure evil in that part of Glasgow city centre (can evil be pure?) when bottles were broken on deserted streets, when the taxi drivers stayed in their cabs rather than coming out to chat and I felt the need to team up with a worker from a project round the corner to visit those aforementioned bins?

It was a night when Stephen King’s fog visited Glasgow and was scared off.

Cya, still wearing that badge and still keeping it simple into 2017 🙂

Iaint850, who missed his first Gaelic lesson of the year cos of work commitments (or overtime as it’s known)

And I’m close to using up my word count so I’ll just introduce the latest in the series of acts I’d not heard of before until someone introduced me to them

This is Be Charlotte and I’ll let her explain herself.

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