Strike!

5.20. I'm at my desk when a bell rings.
"Right, that's it. Everybody out!"
We storm out of the office, opening heckling the scabs, nurses and strike breakers who will be doing our jobs tomorrow. I've always wanted to lead a walkout.

Yes, with just four days remaining in Borehamwood, I'm withdrawing my labour. By taking this industrial action today, we will be sending a message to management that we the workers will not stand idly by whilst they threaten our pensions and pay or something.

Of course, the fact that our managers are also out tomorrow means that there's no-one in the office to send a message to. And I don't actually have a pension and I'm leaving on Friday.

But we, the Brothers and Sisters of the Union will stick together, even if it is costing me a day's pay.

I'm worried about how much I'm enjoying this. But no petrol bombs this time...it's funny how you get more right-wing as you get older.

Sensory overload

Apart from the Doctor Who DVD, I have the most elegant wedding invitation I've ever seen in my hands, and my friend is on the phone telling me she's got the job I was determined she'd get. On top of that my flatmate's only wearing her bra, and I have a council tax bill for 1,100 pounds. Opening the post is dangerous these days.

I'm probably overdrawn in the Kharma bank today, but it definitely was worth the additional expense. Occasionally everything in my life happens at once, and I have one of those days that it may take ages to fully understand. But sometimes you are presented with the opportunity to work hard *and* make a difference, and it is hard not to make the right choice when you recognise the signs.

And best of all, I got to spend some time helping someone get something that they really deserved. My intervention might not have made any difference, but I think I helped at least. And I received some kind words from someone who's opinion I value very highly, and nothing quite matches that feeling. Even receiving a wedding invitation that probably cost more than my entire wedding will. It even had a little scroll and a feather in it.

With just seven working days until I leave Borehamwood, the emotional demands are getting higher and higher. The road to Greenborough is not going to be easy.

It was a privilege working with you, and I wish you every success for the future....

There's a chocolate biscuit flying past my head, followed by a few pens and some folders. And I'm thinking Manager's taking my resignation surprisingly well.

After a wait of nearly four months, it actually seems like things are moving now. I'll be heading out of Borehamwood on 31st March for the last time, taking a very mellow week's holiday, and hopefully will be arriving refreshed in Greenborough on April 10th.

And it is going to be fantastic.