My Office!

I stopped working this afternoon

Basking in the heat of the strong sun

To look around my empty office

To realise it was partly MINE

I work in this place of miracles

Where people find their way to jobs

Or like me, come back to themselves

I have this job, I work in this office

And in this moment I was simply





I start my new job on Thursday. It’s exciting and perfect and me. But first I say goodbye to a job I have loved. I was doing okay till today. Then it hit me. This is my last weekend at the service station. I am sad.

Of course it has not all been good. My arthritic knee has deteriorated and some customers ate horror shows. But I found parts of myself I lost. I smiled again. I got social. I chatted and connected with people. My confidence returned. I love this job and tomorrow is my last solo shift, as I am training my replacement on my final shift.

I already foretell more tears. I have come to know some amazing people. I am so keeping in touch with them. I made the right decision but I am sad.

Drat the location 

I am dipping my toes into the job scene.  I applied for a job under the impression that  it was local but it was in fact in Auckland which is the other end of the island.

I made it through two online screenings and a phone interview.  I am on the shortlist.   Sadly I will need to withdraw because the living costs of relocating are prohibitive.

It was a job that married nicely with my mental health training.except the people were in financial crisis, rather than a health one.

The whole process gave me a boost of confidence and an understanding that nursing is not my only career pathway.  I feel more steady in applying for other jobs and finding the one for me.

I did not expect the process to be positive but it was.  


Ebb and Flow:  Our blogs morph over time, as interests shift and life happens. Write a post for your blog — but three years in the future.


This prompt is perfect for me at this time in my life.

The year is 2018, December 25th and it has been a long day.   I worked Christmas day for a colleague that had young children.  He was so grateful, all the other swaps had been for women with young children, no one had thought that he might have the same yearnings for the day.  I was pleased that over the years I had kept that ability to intuit beyond the normal.

I am 50 now and in a change from 49 years of tradition.  I celebrated my birthday with people beyond my immediate family.  I populated the day with the people that I had made friends with, in the passing of those years.  The 47th year was spent stabilising, the  48th rebuilding, leading to the 49th with the new job and the finding of people to share my life with and theirs.

My job brings me great joy.  I am a librarian in one of the last libraries that still has books in printed form that can be borrowed as they were in the recent past.  To maintain this, we are all authors who only publish in print form.  It is a small but sustained protest against a dominant online mentality.   Music surrendered long ago but book lovers just could not.

Hubby and I still have a menagerie of cats but we have moved house to a single level dwelling.  He has retired, my way of thanking him for all his years of supporting me while I got myself together.  He spend his days working on his model railway, that he opens to the public at the weekend.   And reading the books that he has amassed and kept.

We are happy.  Genuinely happy, not the socially accepted happiness but the deep personal one.  A life time together and only the good remains.  A friendship that blossomed into a love that lasted, unlike many marriages in the same period.  It is all but abolished now, this concept of marriage where you work at it because it lasts and is not thrown away at the first few signs of problems.

I have come to accept my past, live in my present, moment to moment and to wait for my future.  Rather than anticipate or fear that future.  What will be will be.  Living is in this moment, not in the shadow cast by the past or the future.  It is a quiet peaceful life, well fought for and accepted.  Both acts were equally hard fought.  I was never good at accepting, always questioning and fighting.  Sometimes fighting was just not necessary, survival come habit, stretching beyond its true life span.

Physically, I am as I chose rather than was conditioned so long ago.  I have completed my first marathon, I have always been about persistence rather than speed and still compete in triathlons.  My competitor remains myself and my determination to finish and improve.  Other participants in the events are seen as companions rather than competitors.  “Races” are simply a preferred social gathering for me.  Hubby still cheers on the sidelines, still not interested in this as a form of anything but enjoying my enjoyment in it.  He is and has always been my greatest supporter and believed in my ability, long past what I could.

In this moment I am me and I am happy.  What more could I ask for?