Up at the crack of dawn, ironing done, and off to work. It’s no secret that for all that I grumble about my job I’m a lot happier with it than I was a couple of years ago. The reason is clear – some eighteen months ago I asked for a grade reduction. A fifteen percent cut in wages was accompanied by a ninety per cent cut in stress. At the time, whilst I was actually in the throes of settling into my reduced role I met up with one of the reps who I see from time to time. I’ve known this bloke for years, and he’s now more of a friend than a rep. He’s even on my Facebook list (and I’m getting very fussy over who is allowed on that!) At the time, this chap was not surprised in the least that I was taking a grade reduction. In his line of work he gets to meet a lot of people in my line of work, and he told me that he knew of loads of people who’d taken a similar voluntary downgrading. Today a chap at work with whom I was equal two years ago formally announced he too has asked for (and has been given) a voluntary demotion. I wonder how many more people are looking to do the same?
I’ve just said that I’m getting very fussy about my Facebook list. Does the name “Phil Towler” ring any bells with any of my loyal readers? The chap’s asked to add me as a friend. I see from his profile that he has the possibility of knowing me. He runs the Healing Voice centre in Ashford, so I might have met him socially. However the fact that he already has 2741 friends on Facebook makes me very dubious about the bloke.
Also on Facebook it’s 80s week. I wonder if my recent space of photos from Boys Brigade camps has prompted this?
I bought my Euromillions ticket this evening. For all that my new boiler has meant that I’m going through a “zero expenditure” phase, with a jackpot of over one hundred million quid I thought it was well worth an investment of two quid. Did I win? What do you think? But I can dream.
What would I do with one hundred and twelve million pounds? Well, the first thing I would do would be to smile. And then I’d have to see my friends and family were all right. Mind you, that would take some doing. I’ve done some sums. Giving a million quid to close family members and a quarter of a million quid each to everyone else would come to over forty million quid. But that would still leave me with over sixty million quid to squander foolishly.
As you go to bed, loyal readers, you can content yourself with the thought that in a parallel plane of reality there is another version of you that is (at least) a quarter of a million pounds better off…
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