Break
out the bubbly and pass round the Ferrero Rocher, Boris Johnson’s not the only
one who’s got a new contract of employment.
Let’s raise a toast to giving work the finger (part II). And don’t you
go nicking my idea for a 4 day week Jeremy Corbin because I got there first.
‘Don’t
Give Up! Retirement can be fatal’
proclaimed The Times supplement back in July. Of course it is but not for you. The Government has been crapping itself since
the launch of its ‘pension freedoms’ which has allowed many middle aged muggles
like myself to gleefully kick off their working shoes and skip joyfully into a
sunset nirvana of early retirement or part time employment.
Imagine
how fatal it will be for employers when they realise that the younger, more
energetic version of you they recruited gets their mum to phone in sick on
their behalf every time their iPhone stops working? Ha, ha, ha!
If only you could see me now, you’d know I’m playing a tune on the
world’s smallest violin.
For
years I’ve been telling myself I couldn’t possibly afford to give up a full
time job. Who’d pay the bills? Who’d buy treats for the cats? How would I fund all those decadent trips to
the theatre or metal gigs? Well that was
before I whipped out my trusty Casio pocket calculator and worked out that if I
dipped a toe into my pension pot now, I could actually afford to work less or
not at all. And so from next week, I
will no longer be reporting for duty on Mondays.
Like
the Boomtown Rats, I’ve never liked Mondays. Or for that matter any other day
that involves getting up at 5.30 am in the cold, or dark or with over exuberant
radio DJ’s blathering on about how great it is to be a ‘six o’clocker’. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Really?
Personally, I’d settle for being a ‘nine or ten o’clocker’ if only I
didn’t have to go to work.
Maybe
Monday’s – that’s what I’m going to call them from now on. Maybe I’ll get out of bed (or not). Maybe I’ll get dressed or spend all day in my
PJs. Maybe I’ll do some housework or
binge watch ‘Nailed It’ on Netflix.
Maybe I’ll walk round to the charity shops for a bit of fresh air (isn’t
it polluted?). Maybe I’ll spend the day standing
by the window peering through the nets to see what the neighbours are up to (you
already do this says the other half). Maybe
I’ll knit myself into a garishly patterned strait jacket. Maybe I’ll update my blog every week (miracle
of miracles). But there’s one thing for
sure, I most definitely won’t be getting up to go to work on Mondays!
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| I don't like Mondays much either |
