It’s been a while since I’ve shared my ramblings on life, so I thought we could sit down, grab a coffee or whatever hot beverage you find socially appropriate, (sorry Mrs Bob – lol) and have a chat. Please do pull up a chair and join me …

I’ve just passed my probationary period at my new job, sorry, did I not tell you? My bad. So, in June I was looking to move jobs to be closer to home. Petrol prices at the time meant my job of nearly two years was becoming ridiculously cost prohibitive. So I had a couple of interviews – one at a bakery, with a commute of about 20 minutes each way, which was at least half of my regular commute time to Exeter, and a lot fewer miles. (Incidentally, my work experience, first Saturday & full time job were all at a local bakery in Ashbourne called, Ashbourne Gingerbread owned by a nice gentleman called Robin). It felt like a fairly good omen, to me.

The other job was a warehouse manager position, less than two miles from home. I wasn’t sure about going for the second interview,, as it was well-paid in comparison to my previous job, and I have massive imposter syndrome. I had a chat with Mrs Bob, explaining it was a serious role with a lot of responsibility, etc. But she told me I needed to believe in my abilities and she knew I could do it, and I really did love the sound of the job. I had done a similar job for many years before, I might add. However, some years ago I had a work-stress-related breakdown when supervising an R&D engineering team, caused by working ridiculous hours. I’d said from that point forward that mental health is more important than money and fast bikes.

So, I had a think about it and, as per usual I got out my favourite deck of tarot cards and pondered what to do, if I was offered either of the jobs or just one job. I thought that the warehouse job would be my dream job. It was a small family business that provide equipment to various NHS, private individuals, and charities involved in ophthalmic care. It had a five-minute commute, with a much better financial package than the bakery, and only a few people worked there which I prefer. If the worst came to the worst, I’d take the job in the bakery, and continue looking for something else.

The bakery offered me the job and as I’d heard nothing about the warehouse job, I went down for my first shift. I instantly really didn’t like it, but it’s money and you do what’s needed. At lunchtime, I got my phone out of my locker to call Mrs Bob – it’s like a dinner date via iPhone. To my surprise I had a missed call from a number I didn’t know, and dun dun duuuh… there was a voicemail!

I’m really not big on phone or video calls, in general. It’s mainly my social anxiety mixed with a splash of autism served in a tall frosty glass. I tentatively called my voicemail, it was the director from the warehouse job, offering me the position! I was speechless, which as you know is quite something – my friends don’t call me “Not so Silent Bob” for nothing. I rang Mrs Bob and she was so happy for me. She told me that I need to be happy in my work … that money is secondary no matter what. So I should just go with what made me happy.

I called the Director of the warehouse job back, and told him I’d accept the position starting the next day. I was worried about speaking to the bakery, but Mrs Bob helped me by texting me a form of words to help me. To my surprise, the bakery said they were sad to lose me but they understood my position. So, I got in the Bobmobile and had lunch at the local Abbey as Mrs Bob works from home doing some really complicated stuff. I went home to a massive hug from Mrs Bob, and sorted out my outfit for the next day, as the job requires smart casual office attire.

I started work the following morning under the supervision of the existing Warehouse Manager, who is looking to retire. He showed me to my office, which has a beautiful view of the river on one side, and the car park on the other. I worked alongside him for just over a week then at a weekly staff meeting it was announced he was going to reduce his work to three days a week, which gives me two days where I unlock the building and I was effectively left to do things my way.

I’ve now been at this job for three months and I have just had my probationary meeting with the Director. This meeting went very well and I passed my probationary period. So I guess I should have put spoiler alert!

I’m very settled and it’s such a nice atmosphere. I’m pretty much on my own, it’s an interesting job and a much more mature role than previous jobs I’ve had. I’ve just got to slowly get used to not having a 15-year veteran there as a safety net, although I’ve a very good feeling that I’m where I’m meant to be in life, as it’s meant Mrs Bob and I are in such a wonderful place right now. We’ve been given the gift of time, waking up naturally, although I always still have a late alarm on… my autistic side HAS to know there’s an alarm on…

It’s meant we get time to go to beach with a coffee, watch the sea, chat and listen to a podcast. Breakfast on the beach, and in summer it was swimming at the beach. There’s a recurring theme here other than spending quality time with the lovely Mrs Bob. We like the beach, it’s a very special and grounding place for both of us. It’s also meant date-nights at village pubs, playing Lego Star Wars, Harry Potter or LOTR (badly I might add). But most importantly for me, it’s meant time to turn off the TV, and catch up on each other’s week to the sound of ocean waves.

So there you are, my friends, that’s kinda where I’m at right now. Oh, apart from co-writing a book with the lovely author, Daisy Burton, entitled “Spells and Scribbles, A Poet’s Guide to Witchcraft”, which I’ve mentioned in previous blogs. So, thank you for listening to this old fool’s ramblings. Stay safe x