Old Hack

I’ve a full notebook. The shorthand is fine but I’ve lost my place.  There’s something I’ve got to transcribe and get on the wires. It’s getting late. My last train goes soon. I quite often miss it these days and then it’s murder trying to find my way home. Taxis don’t stop. All the junctions at Camden town lead to places I don’t recognise. I’ve got to read my notes. Get them out. I think: I can’t do this job any more.

But I stopped being a staffer 20 years ago. They can’t sack me. What am I worried about? It’s about time I told them I don’t work for them any more.

One route home takes me by a winding river. The surrounding countryside is beautiful. I don’t recognise it though.

I wake up.

At home.


About lleweton

Long retired.
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2 Responses to Old Hack

  1. churchmouse says:

    I still have dreams about things like that, only about university days. I rarely missed a 9 a.m. class (a few times, but I can nearly count them — five or six altogether?). Yet, when I dream about university now, I’m either late for registration, missed a whole term of three important classes, didn’t write any papers or do any reading (none of which happened at the time — ever). A very strange thing, and so separated from the past as to be irrelevant.

  2. lleweton says:

    Yes, thanks for that, Churchmouse. Clearly we’re not alone. Mrs L and I have discussed her similar worries: in this case about her lesson notes during her 25 years as a teacher at one school, now long in the past. Maybe, it’s just that while we were busy surviving and getting on with things, we did not give these anxieties time to pop up.

    ….. And as I’ve not put in an invoice to my old employers for 20 years I don’t see why I should have to give them notice that I’ve decided not to work for them any more ……

    Thank goodness we’ve all got that sorted!

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