I thought about this post as I took my first shower at home in nearly a month. No, I have washed, but our shower has been out of action and as any house sharer knows you only discover your landlord’s true worth when something goes wrong. And it got me thinking to 2015 and a fresh start with good intentions. 2014 hasn’t been a bad year but 2015 is going to be better. This, I have decided.
Firstly, my hopes and dreams for this country is for every douchebag time waster and drunk who squanders the time of the NHS A&E services is financially penalised for their selfish idiotic behaviour. The stories I have heard from on the ground just ASTOUND me.
It won’t happen of course because the Government as we know, are all a bunch of pussies. And no change of party is going to resolve that. Which brings me on to my second hope – for a ‘none of the above’ option on ballot papers. Which again of course won’t happen because that would be way too much of a reality check and they just couldn’t take the truth.
For me I am planning that, in its third year, my photo a day project is actually a photo a day. No excuses.
Whilst I have given up on the blog a day thing (I am just sooooo busy these days) I’ll be throwing up quick and easy pointless remarks via my new Twitter account (@fromthehencoop) instead. So go there instead.
So Adios 2014 and here’s to a rockin’ new year. Make it a good one dudes.
The concept of someone dying and nobody noticing blows my mind and unnerves me just a little. I was reminded of the case of Joyce Vincent who lay dead in her flat for nearly three years and noone reported her missing. In fact it wasn’t until her rent wasn’t paid that anyone noticed at all. Had it not been for that, who knows how long she may have lain there.
I came across a news article from last year which detailed the UK Missing Persons Bureau and the dozens and dozens of bodies recovered in various ways, which still await identification. Noone has come forward for them and cases go back to 1966.
Many are vagrants. Many are people hit by trains either accidentally or by their own device. But all of them came from somewhere, must have been recognisable to at least one other person. Many had house keys, money, personal possessions.
I’m struck by certain cases – the young man found at the bottom of the Clifton Suspension Bridge. Clearly a suicide with a ‘homeless and hungry’ sign amongst his possessions. He even had a passport photo on him. Or the chap, suited and booted, who possibly jumped in front of a train at Thirsk in January 1993 with a copy of The Independant Newspaper and £195 in cash in his pocket. Or the diver picked up off the coast of Dover.
Or the jogger who collapsed in Brent and died where he fell but was never claimed.
How does this happen?
I am not blessed with a large circle of friends and that’s my own choice. But I’m pretty sure if I dropped dead tomorrow people would start to ask questions fairly soon.
It’s a frightening concept to think that you can die and not be missed. Even worse, when you are missed, and noone bothers to look for you. What kinds of friends are they?
It’s that wonderful time of year again when we are reminded that festive spirit means money, how much of it you can spend and how much materialism you can possibly squeeze into just a few days.
10% of us are still paying back last year’s hoard of overpriced tat and food and drink purchased to impress freeloading friends and relatives. So how much Christmas cheer will you be enjoying as you max out the credit card yet again?
No sooner will Christmas and the gluttonous New Year celebrations be over than you’ll be forced to think about that expensive summer holiday you should be taking. And you’re probably still paying off last year’s distant memory of that as well.
As if this wasn’t bad enough we’ve all been reeled in by Black Friday, Cyber Monday (because if they didn’t get you in the shops they’ll try and catch you online) then they’ll be the same mayhem at Christmas Eve, Boxing Day and New Year’s Day.
Give me a desert island any day. I’m not falling for these tricks.
I have noticed a trend since I moved to my current city and I think a lot of it has to do with our economic climate and our attitude to work. It also has a lot to do with small people living in small places.
I suppose I have always been fairly lucky in work. When I lived and worked down south jobs were easier to come by if you had skills and you networked, companies were generally good employers and everyone seemed to get on well.
Since I moved to Lincoln I have noticed a worrying change of attitude towards staff (not just to myself but to others as well) on the ground especially from more mature members employees who should have known better.
Tale telling, poor opinion of staff and customers, bullying and a complete lack of trust in staff from management and vice versa are just a few of things I remember from the last 6 years. It’s why I’ve moved jobs several times. I’ve never been so desperate for work that I’ve allowed myself to be treated like shit, emotionally bullied or made to feel like I can’t be trusted. But clealy there are people that will because I met people who dreaded every work day of their lives but kept on going back for more. I won’t put up with that. Life’s too short. I guess I just lived in bigger places.
Despite being bullied a lot at school (no doubt because of small minds in small places) I never got bullied once in the workplace until I came here and since then it’s happened several times. And I would love to name and shame.
Thankfully since I now work for myself I don’t have to put up with this mindless petty behaviour but there may come a day when I have to go back into office environments and I shall have to defend myself again. More than that I feel sorry for the generations who have put up with this kind of behaviour and think that’s the way it. Because that just breeds the next generation of bullies, suspicious management and subservient employees.
And that’s the kind of place I don’t want to be working.