Quintessence

I quit. And in the quitting, I squint in the sunlight, and find, that at last, I make sense.       Copyright owned by Jay Cool, July 2019   Featured image from Pixabay.com  

49: Sad

Disclaimer: If you decide to purchase a featured product, via one of the image links, I will receive a commission from Amazon at no extra cost to yourself. Seven working days to go and they ain’t half dragging! Sure, a part of me is sad – I have been in this job for twenty-three years…

33: Grated Orange

Today is a Day Job day. Stop complaining, I hear you say; do your bit for society and be grateful. I feel grateful, as in grated and full. Bits of my skin have been grated off and the wounds have been allowed to fester. The infection was supposed to make its way into me, to…

13: 1000 likes!

I’ve hit the big time! I’ve done it! Today, I received the grand total of 1001 likes on my blog, for which I received ‘Congratulations’ from Word Press. Is this just the start? The start of my new life as a remote being? Why haven’t I reached the big 1, 000, 000 yet? Come on…

10: Boss-Free

Another day over. Am I wishing my life away? No, I’m counting down the days until my life starts again. Life minus the boss. Perhaps I shouldn’t knock it; the boss pays, and I can’t say that my inbox is full of demands for my services as a savvy freelance writer. Is it the savvy…

3: A Diary

Okay, so I’m still currently in employment, but by being up and blogging at 2.44 am, I am demonstrating my commitment to the cause. Yesterday, I achieved a record number of 198 views on this blog site. Yes, it is true that my target was to reach 200, but I nearly got there! So, don’t knock…

1: A Diary

  I’ve done it! Volunteered myself for redundancy and signed on the dotted line. Redundancy seems a poor choice of word, and totally inadequate for a process that involves stepping into my new life; a life in which I will be anything but redundant, anything but a spare. In this life, I will be working…

Seconds of Seconds in the month of May – and Still Standing!

Memorable. Awkward. I’m running down East Street, shouting ‘Stop that wan***! Stop that wan***! Steggsy’s nicked off with the Ladies’ toilet roll!’ And, all the time, I’m trying to hang onto my jeans, in a futile attempt to keep them hanging low, and avoid falling victim to any brown staining. But it’s a waste of time. I look…