My new job, that is. I've taken an extra day off tomorrow, with my new manager's agreement, ostensibly because my wife has been very tired and washed out today after her hospital visit yesterday, but my actions are not, perhaps, quite as altruistic as they seem. I know I've only been working away for two weeks, but I'm already having serious doubts about whether it's what I want to do at this stage of my life. The job itself is fine, it's busy, interesting and well-paid, especially in these straitened times, but the domestic/personal side of things are increasingly looking like a show stopper. The worst problem is being away from home, as I've already discussed at some length in this blog, particularly in the absence of a permanent pied a terre close to work (and that is in no way whatsoever to diminish my gratitude to those who have extended their hospitality to me over the past couple of weeks), but I'm also increasingly getting the feeling that I'm not going to fit in at all well with the rest of the 'team' in my new workplace. That is my fault, at least in so far as I'm reluctant to compromise my principles, even if only by silence, in that I'm not prepared any more to pander to the kind of sexist, racist, xenophobic, homophobic attitudes that sadly still characterise much of the white, working-class, tabloid-press reading masses - in other words, most of the people I'm working with now. I'm far more likely nowadays to tell them they're talking out of their arse, which isn't likely to win me too many friends and influence too many people. And that, of course, is without even going anywhere my 'hidden' self, the fact that I'm the average, 'right-thinking' person's most loathed and despised hate figure, the 'paedophile', as I would doubtless be categorised. It's too early, I suppose, to give up yet, especially given the potential financial consequences, but for how long my situation is going to remain tenable is difficult to say.
Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B
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