Nothing new under the sun

Posting is problematic at the moment - there doesn't seem to be much to say that I haven't said myriad times before. Work, and the shower of braindeads I'm condemned to associate with there, my health, or lack of it, and, most frustratingly, cute boys and their inaccessibility, have been discussed here ad nauseam. I am still trying to make progress on my new long story, but, at present, it's more in my head than committed to cyberspace. Maybe I'll suddenly find the inspiration to come up with some sparkling entries, but I wouldn't bet my very meagre life savings on it.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Double edged words

I'm an unashamed 'word fan', always have been. But they can very easily turn round and bite you, too. I was bussing past Tottenham Court Road station the other day, and saw a window display obviously linked to the recent Pride in London event - it was rainbow themed, but it was the hashtag at the bottom that brought me up short. #LoveIsLove. So, when, at 49, I fell in love with an 11 year old boy - DBJ, of course - that would be perfectly fine, then? Yeah, right. As ever, some are more equal than others, and boylovers are at the bottom of the heap.
Then today, amid some badinage at work around birthdays, my friend and shift manager told me that I had 'years in me yet'. I'm sure what he said was in the best spirit, but all I could think was 'is that supposed to make me feel better?'. Because the prospect of more of my benighted life, stretching to the horizon and beyond, is almost enough to make me want to reach for the overdose right now.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

No escape

I go to work and spend most of my time listening to morons talking crap, then I come to the pub on the way home, and - listen to morons talking crap.
And then there are the boys, of course. After yesterday's commuting encounter, there was another school party on the same route today, including a pretty close simulacrum of my mental picture of Xander at the beginning of Alexandrine. And a pair of irresistibly cute brothers as I was walking to 'worktown' station when my shift had finished. The school holidays start at the end of this week. I'll be a gibbering wreck by about the middle of August if it carries on like this.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Waaaah!

Not a word (or exclamation, or whatever else you want to call it) I'd ever used in a text message before, until this afternoon. I texted K after an encounter with an infeasibly beautiful boy, one of a party on what appeared to be a school trip, on the Overground on my way to work earlier. He was about the same age as DBJ was when I fell for him, tallish like my unforgettable inamorata but not otherwise alike, today's boy's most distinctive feature being absolutely lovely light brown, collar-length hair I could happily have spent hours cooing over. But, of course, he 'ghosted' away after little more than ten minutes as I changed trains to continue my journey.
And that wasn't the only 'waaaah' moment in the past twenty four hours - last night, in reaction to a conversation at work, I found, in an internet property search, a place that could easily have been my 'retirement home', a two bedroom, furnished cottage in a waterside Cornish village I would give my right arm to live in, for the sort of rent that wouldn't even secure you a garage in several parts of London. K's reaction was that I should just take my pension yesterday and go and live there, but I simply can't shirk the responsibility I feel to at least do what I can to help my girl through the rest of her education. I just hope somewhere comparable might be available in eighteen months or so.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

Assertiveness

Or desk-banging, if you prefer. I managed to pin down one of the 'management team' - the deputy manager, as it turned out - this afternoon, and presented a robust, shall we say, statement of my concerns about next month's rosters. And it worked, amazingly enough. Perhaps the fact that I'm not normally a member of the 'awkward squad', preferring to just go in, do my job to the best of my ability and go home, might have had a beneficial bearing, but whatever the reason, within a couple of hours I received an assurance that I would be doing the shifts - and receiving the remuneration - I would normally expect. The only slight regret is that it's taken away what might have been an excuse to bring forward my early retirement, but, realistically, I can't yet afford to give up what is, by any standards, a well-paid job, especially while K is still in full-time education. A problem resolved, though, which is rarely a bad thing.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

The beginning of the end, and another beginning

At least one thing, albeit as part of a predetermined plan, is definitely coming to an end, but events over recent days might add another ending, one I wouldn't have begun to envisage even a week ago. What is certain is that K and I will be moving out of the flat by the end of September - it was always the intention, but an exchange of e-mails with the estate agents in the past couple of days has made it official, and thereby far more concrete. K already has her flat in 'uni-town' organised, so now it's my turn to organise 'pastures new'. The second potential ending may have a huge bearing on where I go, however, because it involves my job. It's a somewhat convoluted story, but the short version is that the management have substantially moved the goalposts around rostering in connection with a very big project that's taking place next month, and it looks like I'm going to be one of a number of people who will be royally screwed over - to the tune of hundreds of pounds, minimum, in lost earnings - as a result. The aforementioned management have been conspicuous by their absence today, my first day back on a weekday daytime shift for nearly a fortnight, so my plan to go and bang the desk and try to get some answers has been delayed by at least 24 hours, but if I can't come to some agreement over the issue, I would very seriously consider simply pulling the plug and taking early retirement. It would certainly be a gamble financially, but I've lost so much over the past twenty years or so by being cheated out of promotions and blatantly lied to by my employers that this might well constitute the proverbial final straw.
And the other beginning? In all honesty, it will probably be another false dawn, but I've begun a new story, which could develop into something substantial. It began simply as a name, one I've never used for a character before, around which the plot, and the attributes of the character himself, began to coalesce. I want this one to work, because it's something at least a little different from much of what I've written in the past, but whether I can find the application to bring it to fruition very much remains to be seen.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B