There’s no better feeling than the last day of contract. That was me last Friday. After week of demob tomfoolery, I finally rolled out of work after performing my final duties and said goodbye to the rabble I called my colleagues the last 8 months and left. You can’t beat a sunny spring evening as the time to finish a contract, stroll up to the car, roll the roof down and happily glide away into the sunset. Unfortunately a sunny spring evening it was not. It was grey and raining and I had to race to the car, unable to saviour the moment.
My heart condition seems to be getting worse now. Something is wrong and the waiting list to see a consultant on the NHS is 4 months. I’ll be dead by then. My health insurance doesn’t cover pre diagnosis shenanigans so I have decided to pay for private healthcare to diagnose myself. It’ll be £1000 but it will be worth it to just know what’s going on.
So my summer fun, which would have been well underway by now under normal circumstances, is still on hold. It’s not a great loss as the weather over there doesn’t tend to be suitable until late March in any case.
I’ll keep you all posted. There’s a lot of you who want to meet up and I’ll start contacting those of you who emailed, I can’t wait to get started. Just got to check this ol’ ticker of mine.
Or… we could play it another way… get you in set, I could drop dead five metres away and you could play the hero by calling the ambulance. You’d be a shoe in for an iDate. But you’d have to pick up the tab for shipping me back to England in a box. Have a think on it, let me know.