I took my daughter’s car up to the shop tonight to get some kindling, It was terrifying as I haven’t driven a car with gears and non automatic but essential functions such as lights for quite some time. An electric work company car is a luxury I would in no way be able to afford in real life, one gets inside, the lights come on, the windscreen wipers, the heater, the radio and I just press go. And off I go. Tonight I drove half way to the shop in the dark wondering why I couldn’t see anything in front of me not illuminated by peoples automatic front door lights, the windscreen had the aura of being steamed up, but as I couldn’t see it didn’t really matter. Where are the lights in this fucking car. I had to stop outside someone’s house to check; the interior barely lit through the mist. The lights don’t come on when you open the door too, and the radio keeps jumping in and out of frequencies. Radio cheerful for overenthusiastic young folk. I didn’t forget how to drive, no, that’s safe in my collander mind, just where everything was and the pre flight checks you have to undertake before getting going. I should have bloody walked.

Secondly, theres an interesting job which has been advertised internally at my work. Looks interesting, lots of travel all over the UK, not selling shit; fixing shit, specific shit and not broken by humans, so would be good, minimal human interaction, plenty of time to sightsee. Problem is the bloke who is advertising it is a complete cunt. Seems like the upper levels of senior management in this weird old company of mine are simply glorified photocopier salesmen masquerading as boffins and captains of industry. This tosser has an unremitting incessant delusion of positivity, everything is awesome, but no where near as cool as in the lego movie. No he tries to rally the troops by telling us things we can see are not true, and when we disagree calls us negative and disruptive. So whilst I’d love to apply, the risk of sending in an application letter to him (yes he wants a letter) just to have pop is far too great a risk. The chance off writing my own resignation by accident is a real prospect and so I think if I do go for it, then I’d better sleep on it. Not even sure if the salary is better, there’s a code for the level of operative you would become, but I don’t even know what code I am which would mean unnecessary fumbles through the intranet. Being older now, 52, I’m beginning to feel that much of the time I really can’t be arsed but I also realise that this is not a solution. Being arsed would be the correct course to take, but then imagine if this bloke was my boss…

Is this an age thing? And can I sue?

This is the Age of Not Wanting to Know Anything Else