I sit here waiting for the phone call back. For as long as it fucking takes. This being the call from Royal Mail.
I got one shot at this. There IS no other company that you get to be a postman for. Yes there are courier companies – that isn’t the same deal. That isn’t collecting all the letters from the post-boxes across a town or city (less so in a village but there are at least 2 in my village). That isn’t being Postman Pat*.
Then if I do somehow manage to pull this off, I have to wrestle with the ogre of my conscience in letting down my manager with potentially as little as 2 weeks notice. This would be easy were it not for the fact that she is the best manager I’ve ever had in my entire working life. She’s also under a lot of stress right now, with both staffing issues and work related issues. And she’s let me keep my job for the past 15 – approaching 16 years. This is a hard one. But I also feel myself being worn into the ground on Nights. When I started them people told me I’d never looked better. But that was 3 years ago. Since then I think I’ve come to the unshakeable conclusion that humans just aren’t meant to defy natural daylight cycles.