Work is coming along. I can switch off the sat nav on my PDA for most of my collection stops now. Yesterday, I was offered hours on Saturday as well – which would have meant working 7 days a week. I politely declined. I can’t work every single day of the week!!!! Fuck damnit, I need at least ONE day of glorious solitude, to chill and do whatever I want to, and not have the spectre of another work day looming over me.
I only have to work the rest of this week and then next week and then I have my first week off since last year! And also my first week off since leaving the care home. That will be so nice. And also nice to not absolutely dread going back to work after. It’s a very different feel I have before work now. At the care home, you cannot predict anything – not a damn fucking thing about the potentially violent resident. I just had to do my best acting in being interested in stuff he was trying to tell me, etc etc, never knowing if he was suddenly, without explanation or cause, just start thumping himself on the forehead again with both fists. Much of the dread felt before work was just the knowing that should that happen, I’d be trapped there for hours on end by myself. That wasn’t a fear, as by the end I knew what to do, and that it would burn itself out quite quickly because I knew I wouldn’t do anything to escalate it. It was just a fed-upness kind of thing, at the endless repeated cycle that didn’t even have a cause, and would absolutely NEVER have a solution. It was so wearing having to trudge in having to face the same shit night after night – even for just 2 nights whilst I was working out my notice period.
The feeling I have right now? Hmm…It’s a feeling of “ugh I can’t do anything else here at home now” BUT, knowing full well that by the time I’m on my second run, all of a sudden I look at my watch and it’s, say 4:25 – and the first 2 hours have just vanished before my eyes. But it’s not a sense of “oh no!! I’ve not made the most of my life in those 2 hours” kind of thing, because I KNOW what I’ve been doing! I’ve been carefully collecting the sacks of post and parcels and arranging them (sort of) in my van, I’ve met the nice receptionists in the offices, I’ve driven around, I’ve emptied the post boxes, and to me these are all very important things! Then before I know it I look at my watch again and it’s 5:40 and I’m heading towards my final few stops. And I know that once I get back, with just a little bit of worry about which york to put my sacks into, half the time at least 1 person will come along and start taking the stuff out the back of my van! (I never even say a word – they just come along and do that).
Same places, same actions, same deal, day after day after day. And I know that would crush some people, but I LOVE it. The “no 2 days are the same in care work!” is very, VERY overrated. And I’m so happy to be out.