A Very Long Time.

Some time in the past, I seem to remember a fellow blogger referring to blogging as a form of therapy. In fact, I know this is something I've counted on at various times over the last few years.

In short, I think it speaks volumes that I haven't been blogging since I left my last job, and yet I am so sorry I've been away. This blogring has a fantastic community, and I feel a bit of shame not being a contributing part of it.

I'm still here. I'm still around. Sorry I've not been as vocal as I could be (I'll try to correct that) but I've not got as much to vent at the moment as I used to. I guess what I'm coming to realise is that as good as it is to be able to say what is weighing down on you, it is made that much better by knowing that someone is listening.

Thank you, all, for that.

I see dead people.

I'm not entirely sure, but I think I see more folk lying unmoving at the side of the road than the national average. Or maybe it's just that I just stop more than most (at least judging by the number of people that rubberneck and drive past as I'm checking them out). 

I see an average of one every two years... that's not right, is it? Or is it? Really... are there a relatively large number of people who just collapse or have a kip in verges, even in the rain?

So far they've all turned out to be alive, at least after a little prodding, but I guess its only a matter of time. I do need to get my First Aider qualifications up to date as well, just in case.

I've been abused by a drunk woman who had previously been face down in the gutter for checking if she was alive. Thanked by an old lady who had fallen over and sprained her ankle (someone else arrived at the same time as me and took her to hospital) and had two pretty incoherent replies from guys with what I can only presume were mental health difficulties, the only real resolution was to call the Police and leave it to the professionals.

The latest was yesterday, in the pouring rain. We were on our way to see Mamma Mia! because there wasn't much else to do as it was so wet. It's quite good fun, by the way. I rather surprised myself by enjoying it.

Anyway, as we drove along the road, I spotted this guy lying on the pavement, head resting on his arm. Remember, this is Monsoon Britain. We pulled over at a nearby pub (and yes, the thought did cross my mind about the cause of his sleepiness) and I jumped out to check on him. He was alive (thank God) but started rambling about ambulances checking on him, but refusing to let him on board and other stuff.

I asked him if he might be more comfortable in the bus shelter (where at least it was dry, and somewhere I could point the authorities to if need be). Alas, the bus shelter was behind him... he doesn't go backwards, only forwards apparently.

He got up, and started shambling on. We popped to the Police and made a suggested someone might like to check he hasn't got lost from his carer and went to see the film. We drive back along the same route, and there he was, a little further down the road (forwards, of course) asleep on the wet, muddy grass next to a bus shelter. He wasn't there or anywhere on the road when we came home, so fingers crossed the Plod or someone else did come to give him a helping hand.

So that was exciting. I do wonder when I'm going to encounter my first violent zombie though.

Last Day!

WooHoo!

I still haven't received a written confirmation of the job offer. Allegedly I start Monday...