bookmark_borderReasons to work

I’ve been made been made redundant three times in my career, so far, and the first two were from my first two jobs. Not a great start, you’d think.

The first time was from a small Scottish company called Crossaig (I built their website back in 1999, christ I’m old…) they were, in hindsight, just trying to survive as a business and my role wasn’t crucial so it made sense that I was let go. Yes I know, it’s the role that is redundant, not the person, blah blah blah.

The second time was about a year and a half later and was prompted by Dr.Solomons being bought by McAfee who promptly made the entire workforce redundant. A couple of months later they started re-hiring but I’d already moved on by then.

My third (Sage Tetra) and fourth (McLaren) jobs I left of my own volition.

And my fifth job at Verint made me redundant due to restructuring and was, at the time, the hardest one to take. I’d spent many years working my way up and buliding a career and it was a bit of a gut punch at the time. I enjoyed the people, the work, and I was in the middle of transitioning to a new role that I was very excited about. Just before I was due to start the new role I took a holiday, went to Glastonbury Festival, and the day I got back in the office I was told my new position (that was supposed to be starting that day) was being made redundant. Ugh.

My sixth job ended outwith my control as well, but not through redundancy. It was my first (and likely only) time as a Contractor. I started on a one year contract which then rolled on every 6 months and, after 7 years of that, they finally pulled the plug. C’est la vie. The fact it happened the day before I went on holiday to France for almost three weeks was just bad timing.

Looking back I think Dr.Solomons, and Verint are the two that hurt the most. But life goes on, as does the need to pay the bills!

I’m on my seventh job now, almost three months in, and currently reflecting why I chose this company over others.

When my contract was cancelled I decided to go back to the ‘security’ of a salaried position and after a couple of weeks of interviews I had four promising leads, no mean feat considering I’d done all the research and initial interviews whilst on holiday in France. One of the roles I kinda knew I’d turn down as it was working for an agency, a way of work I was keen to step away from, and whilst the other two were both interesting (and slightly higher paid) the company I ended up being lucky enough to join held a little more personal investment from the get go.

That company is Allied Vehicles, and their core business is “Allied Mobility™ ~ Europe’s leading manufacturer of wheelchair accessible cars, people carriers and minibuses. We’re also the number one supplier of wheelchair accessible vehicles to the highly successful UK Motability Scheme”.

So why did I chose Allied Vehicles? Well simply because of the massive difference I’ve seen in my Mum since she got Vera.

Ohhh I should point out that Vera is her power assisted wheelchair.

My Mum had a stroke several years ago and, before he passed, my Dad was her main carer. They still managed to get away on cruises, daily outings were common, and they had a wonderful retirement ahead of them. But after Dad suddenly passed my Mum not only lost her husband, but her independence. Dad died during the early lockdown days, so it wasn’t until the world emerged from that, a couple of years later, and we could start taking Mum out for coffees and little trips that I started to realise she just wasn’t getting out much on her own.

Stubbornly she was still walking to the supermarket to buy a paper, but that was the most she could manage, a chore that would take an able bodied person 15 minutes to do, could take my Mum almost an hour.

But it turns out that she had had the same realisation, so when she mentioned she’d been looking into getting a powered wheelchair I was more than happy to help out, did some research and ordered one. It arrived promptly and after a couple of test runs she managed to the local supermarket for a few things and back, all on her own and without the constant fear of failing over (my Mum doesn’t have the use of the right side of her body, she can walk with a stick but it’s always a bit fraught).

Vera arrived not long before I went to France so you can imagine my delight when, upon phoning Mum to see how she was, she happily informed me that she’d gone to the dentist on her own. 40 mins there, 40 mins back in her new wheelchair. AWESOME.

And that’s why I chose Allied Vehicles, because I’ve seen first-hand the difference mobility can make to my Mum’s quality of life.

I’ve never really thought of myself as altruistic, and of course I am getting paid to work, but it’s still refreshing to have these thoughts in my mind as I start work everyday, to have a meaningful reason to turn up and do my best.

When I’m in the office, from where I sit at my desk, I look up I see a large caption stencilled up near the ceiling. It reads WE MOVE PEOPLE AND MAKE A DIFFERENCE TO THEIR LIVES. It’s a core part of what Allied Vehicles do, and one that is a life changing as it is simple.

I’ve worked for a companies that provided indexing software for scientific journals that sold anti-virus software, that provided ERP/Accounting solutions, for a CAD Document Management company, for a Call Centre solution company and, most recently, for a large high street bank, and I can safely say that I have never sat in a meeting room in any of these places and discussed, in detail, WHY we do what we do; Just the other day I heard a story about one of our customers, who had just been moved into critical life care. We were about to provide a vehicle that was taking them on holiday but it didn’t get there in time. These things happen a lot, life inserts itself into our business processes and, invariably it means a customer has declined in their health, or passed away.

It’s sad, but just like my Mum and Vera, it gives real meaning to what we do. It gives me something to focus on when I’m in my 3rd straight meeting of the day, when I’m getting frustrated about something that is ultimately pretty trivial, and it especially helps when we are discussing improvements to our business processes; the customers we serve really do go through life-altering experiences, so the more we can do to help them the better.

Giving the disabled a form of mobility back give them much more than a vehicle. It gives the independence, it gives them a sense of control over that aspect of their life again, and just being able to leave your own house under your own steam, and go for a drive somewhere is something that so many of us take for granted that it’s easy to forget just how liberating it can feel if you’ve felt trapped inside your own home.

Yup, almost three months in and it’s safe to say this is already more than just a job.

bookmark_borderAlmost 50

Apparently old age hits when you are 68, or so I read. I’m not sure why that is, and I’m sure smarter people than me have outlined the reasons in great detail but, on the whole, it sounds about right given that I’m soon to turn 50 and I do not think I’m all that old.

Some days I feel old but I’m not really 50, I’m somewhere in my late twenties I think, it’s hard to pin down an exact number but that’s where my head usually lands when someone asks me how old I am. Isn’t that weird.

The truth of the matter is that I am very aware that I’m about to turn 50 but that’s entirely down to the fact I have an almost 2 year old son. He is at once a constant source of delight and wonder, and a reminder of my advancing mortality.

When Becca and I first got together, she shared her desires to have a baby. It was something I’d consider in the past (and obviously decided against) but with Becca it felt right, it felt like where our lives would head naturally and I quickly found myself delightedly agreeing.

With that thought in my head I found myself starting to think what would be required to bring a healthy baby, safely into the world. From conception, through the pregnancy, and the birth itself I admit there were many worries on my mind. As soon as we knew we were pregnant, despite all the checkups going well, it was hard for me not to worry about the baby being healthy, and when it was time to head to the delivery suite my head was full of conflicting thoughts should the worse happen. Thankfully it didn’t, with Jack arriving safe and sound, and Becca handling all of it (and the post-partum issues) with the strength and compassion I knew to expect from her.

There was also one recurring thought that still pings around my brain. It started soon after we agreed that we would be having a baby and continues to this day.

How much of my son’s life will I see?

How old will I be when Jack starts school, how old when he learns to drive, when he turns 21… 30?

Early on I hoped these thoughts would drive me to get healthier and fitter, the longer to live to see him grow up, and whilst that hasn’t really panned out, it’s still a big factor of my thinking.

I know a lot of this train of thought was driven by the (still recent) passing of my Dad. He was only 73 and though my Mum is still going strong in my head I’m always hoping I can at least make it to the same age my Dad was, that’ll make Jack 25 years old and hopefully I’ll grow old with some comfort that he’s turned out ok (I mean, I know he will, but I’m a parent, we worry about these things).

It is a strange thing to have your mortality so clearly outlined. It’s certainly not something I’ve previously considered in great depth largely because I was only really concerned about myself. Turning 40 was seen as a celebration and a chance to mark ‘half a life’ lived, but with the constantly running commentary in my head centred around how many more years of life with Jack I’ll manage, turning 50 seems much more daunting, not to mention so much closer to, well, death.

Wow.

I should pause at this point and remind you, dear reader, that I tend to write these posts with only a rough idea of what I’m going to say in my mind, barely an outline, and usually only a starting point. So forgive this rather morbid turn!

OK, so I’ll be 50 soon but I don’t really FEEL that age… that said can someone tell me how am I supposed to feel? From what I can tell, if my closest friends are anything to go by I don’t really see much difference, and whilst I know these days I’m mostly just a bit tired I think that’s more about living with a toddler than anything to do with how many years I’ve lived on this planet.

I am almost 50. I have zero complaints. I have a great life, have had many great life experiences, and find myself settled, content, and happy, with a beautiful family. I feel loved by many people, and none of that has anything to do with my age.

I’ll admit I do harbour a deep-seated desire to make sure that when I do pop my clogs I’ll leave my beautiful wife and beautiful boy financially sorted but that’s still a work in progress. For now we have a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, and we laugh more often than we cry… actually we laugh more often than most things, we are a happy little pack of weirdos!

A few years ago, with this number starting to loom, I started a little plan I called Fit for Fifty, and it was going pretty well. I got back into running and completed a few 5KM runs. I got heavily into cycling, and last year I had about 5 different organised ‘sportives’ booked. I was driven. I was focused! Annnnnnd I hadn’t really taken into account the time it takes to train for these things versus the time it takes to nurture a baby…

I didn’t make ANY of those sportives and it’s only really now, since I’ve recently managed to get back out on my bike a couple of times, that I realise just how much of a back seat my plans had taken.

Yes, for the best of reasons (there is literally NOTHING I wouldn’t do for that boy) but it still has an impact on my physical and mental health. I’m slowing getting back into it, but still struggling to find time, and when I do have time I’m exhausted and struggle with motivation, it’s a horrible cycle (no pun intended) to be stuck in!

Perhaps this post is my way of giving myself a kick. Or perhaps that was when I signed up for the 2024 Etape Caledonia cycle sportive (55 miles up some big hills), either way there is a vague sense of being able to get my fitness goals back on track. Like I said I have a much bigger incentive than ever before, and I’m doing my best to use the happiest moments with my wife and son to coax my exercise mojo out from its hiding place.

So I’m turning 50, so what! It’s just a number and as I’ve mentioned here before, with life starting to open up again I can look ahead to the future with hope and love. It’s just a number, and if nothing else matters then I can take a look at how all of my closest friends are ageing and take solace that I’m still not quite as old as them, even if it is only a matter of months…

bookmark_borderUsed

This may come as a surprise to some of you but, believe it or not, I’m not really that into fashion. I know, you’d never tell from looking at me, right?!!

It’s not that I don’t understand fashion and the part it plays in society but personally I veer more towards practical clothing, even if I do try and incorporate as much colour as I can (high street men’s clothes are so DULL). I know fashion is more than brands and the latest big names, but the whole thing just makes me feel like an outsider and that’s not just because of the exorbitant prices you seem to need to pay to be able to wear the latest trendy clothes. Don’t get me wrong I am happy to pay for good quality items it’s just that I refuse to pay over the odds for something simply because it has the designer/brand name stamped all over it.

As such I’ve never really given all that much thought about how much I spend on clothes; if I’ve needed new trousers or a shirt, I’ve typically found something in one of the bigger chains that works for me. Good enough and all that. However with the last few years of working at home behind me, and with my wardrobe shrunk down to, basically, t-shirts and shorts, I’ve had to delve back into the world of clothes shopping.

I’m in an office a few times a week, it’s a smart casual kinda place so the trousers/jeans I already owned were fine but having donated a lot of my old shirts that I wasn’t wearing to charity I found myself looking at getting a couple of polo shirts to round out my work uniform, as it were.

A quick search online yielded the expected results with some no-brand items from £20 upwards, and of course the brands suddenly make those numbers jump (£85 for one with SuperDry emblazoned over the back!). Ugh, I don’t need anything fancy, just something that fits and that ideally doesn’t cost the earth, surely there are more options out there?!

Then it struck me, charity shops.

I’ll be honest, as I’ve rarely found things in my size and/or to my taste in the past, they’ve fallen out of consideration as somewhere I COULD get clothes and so I don’t visit them often and, because I don’t visit them often, so I don’t find things to buy and… well it’s a vicious circle. Sorry charity shops, I promise it’s not you…

Then I remembered an app I’d tried when I last did some clearing out, Vinted. An online store for second-hand goods. Perfect!

Expect, I have a tiny confession, I might be a little bit addicted. So far I’ve ordered 3 polo shirts for work, a hoodie, and two pairs of shoes. The polo shirts are all ‘labels’ (Fat Face, Adidas, and Slazenger) and were all £5 or less. The shoes include a pair of Nike Presto trainers (I have two other pairs and my feet love them) that retail for £80 and I got them for £30 and… someone needs to stop me!

I mean sure, it’s nice to get a bargain and all that and I don’t mind that these items have been worn once or twice, they are clean and in great condition (and as you may have already noticed, I’m really not that fussy about clothes) but in the back of my mind there is a little voice reminding me that there are other implications that I’m not considering. It’s the same for all clothes that come through the ‘high street’ (whatever that is these days). I’m talking about the working conditions for the people who make these clothes.

I am ashamed.

I’ve been blinded by the low prices and gotten away from being more mindful about my purchases. Not only asking myself ‘do I really need this’ but ‘should I even buy this given where it was made?’. It’s amazing how those two questions quickly stopped me buying clothes in the past, and equally as shaming as how quickly I drop my ethics in face of a bargain.

Which is why I’m writing this, to put it out in public in the vague hope it’ll help shame me back into my ‘less is more/ethically made’ stance in the future.

All of this is easy to say of course and in the face of rising living costs I know that if needs must there are cheap options available to us.

But maybe I can take some inspiration from how we’ve handled things when we’ve been purchasing things for Jack. It baffles me to see kids wearing brand name clothes, they grow so fast and it seems like such a waste. We’ve paid money for one pair of ‘natural’ shoes to help him as he learned to walk (vivobarefoot if yer interested) but for everything else, clothes and toys, we’ve been raiding the secondhand stores. We then re-donate the ones he’s outgrown back to the store as well.

Perhaps Vinted is the modern way of doing this for me, I have sold a couple of things there already and looking at my wardrobe there is more I can shift on, or perhaps I’ll continue to do random clearouts of my wardrobe into black bin bags to take to the local charity store, and MAYBE this time I’ll set foot inside and have a nosey around too. Better to re-use than buy new if I don’t need to.

In my head I have a weird parallel with my vegetarianism or rather, as I read recently, my attempts at being a ‘not so good’ vegan; I still (very very) occasionally eat meat, and occasionally eat fish or seafood, because my vegetarianism is largely about my health but I’m aware of the ecological and environmental impacts of NOT eating red meat as well. It’s a conscious decision I make everytime I eat, I know the impact of my choices and, on the whole, I’m doing good enough for me AND the environment.

With that in mind, I guess my fashion choices are driven along the same lines. I’m doing more than some people but not as much as others. On the whole I think I’m make more good choices than bad and, I guess, I hope that balances things out in the end. It’s a fine line to tread (a fine needle to thread?) but at least now I feel comfortable in second hand clothes.

Anyway, I must go, I’ve just seen an absolute bargain of a new jacket on Vinted…

bookmark_borderHotel Life

Hotels are strange places. Particular the big chains that always give me pause when I am woken from my slumber by an early alarm, those initial few seconds it takes to remember where I am in the world when confronted by yet another bland room with the exact same layout as the other bland rooms I’ve stayed in before.

To be fair, most of the time I only every stay in a hotel for a few nights so as long as it’s clean, has a decent bed and a shower, I don’t need much more. It is but a roof over my head, a base to explore the world from, so my requirements of a hotel room aren’t the most extravagant. As long as it’s good enough it’s good enough for me, as I’m sure someone else once said.

It’s no coincidence that I am writing this very post whilst sitting on a not too uncomfortable chair, in front of an almost usefully sized desk in a Premier Inn which, as expected, is as perfectly innocuous as any other. It’s quite a skill to have the interior design of such places broken down into a perfectly repeatable format that is used so often I’m sure most of you can picture the room I’m in without any more description.

This is not to putdown this, or any other, budget level hotel. They have a valuable place in the world and part of that is down to their insipid offerings. The fact that each Premier Inn room is essentially the same, that every Tune hotel has the same offerings (no I don’t need a window or more than one towel thanks), and all come with such similar colour schemes that there becomes a tranquility and comfort in their familiarity. When you’ve spent a day exploring the world, or been working in a new location, it’s nice to have a calm space that doesn’t challenge or overload your brain. Long live mediocrity.

I guess that’s why, when you do stay at a hotel that has put some thought into the little details or offers decorative touches that stand out, those are the ones that leave an impression. It can be the simplest of things – USB charging points next to both sides of the bed for example – that stand out, and many times it’s a tiny detail that in hindsight makes you wonder why EVERY hotel doesn’t have such a thing.

As mentioned staying at a hotel with USB points, as well as standard plugs, on both sides of the bed, seems like such a trifling matter on its own, but if you include a remote control for the air conditioning, a choice of pillows in the cupboard and not one but three different, large, surfaces to accumulate all the junk we end up with us when we travel, and what could’ve been a basic hotel room quickly goes up in your expectation. Add in some unique design touches, maybe eye catching wallpaper, or a luxurious armchair (to throw your clothes on) and suddenly it all feels so much more luxurious.

The flipside of this though is that such rooms aren’t familiar. The minute I step into the room of a more upmarket hotel, one that has a bigger budget to equip and decorate the room I’m always aware of the money I’ve spent, and try to take in the details, make sure I use all the facilities. I act like I’m staying in a hotel, I’m aware I’m staying in a hotel and I always feel a little out of place. As much as I like my creature comforts, I’m a man of simple tastes for the most part, happy to make do with the basics as long as those basics are good enough.

A posh hotel room is too far from what we have at home, it doesn’t feel familiar, it doesn’t feel safely unchallenging, it reminds me that I am not at home, that I am far from my loved ones.

So you can keep your high thread count linens, and complimentary robes and slippers, give me something bland and familiar.

Wow, I’m not sure I could be any more middle-aged than this.

I am Premier Inn.

bookmark_borderEverything changes

We human beings are a strange and complicated lot in many ways, none more so than when something alters in our worldview. I know that change is viewed by a lot of people as a bad thing yet it seems that, when it is thrust upon us, we adapt to it far more easily than we have anticipated.

I guess fear of the unknown is likely the biggest factor and the higher your natural anxiety levels are the more that can become the focus and start to dominate our thoughts as the upcoming change looms before us. On the other hand change can be seen as an opportunity, something to embrace and be excited about, even if it can be daunting. Like I said, us humans are a complex bunch.

Having recently started a new job for the first time in – checks notes – over 7 years, and I’ll be working in a new location too. It’s what is now being referred to as a hybrid role, with a minimum of 2 days a week in the office so whilst it’s not every single day, it is the first office I’ve stepped into in over 4 years. Quite a change from working at home, and it took me a couple of days to realise quite why I was SO exhausted after only a few days back in an office environment.

When COVID struck, my previous employer sent us all to work from home for a while and there I stayed, with all the perks it entails for almost four years; dress how you want, listen to music if you want, better coffee, ability to do quick chores or help out with your new born son etc. I was more than happy and I don’t really think my work suffered because of it; interactions with my colleagues were limited to online meetings, chats, and the (very) occasional phone call. It made some things more challenging but not impossible.

Fast forward to today and here I am, back in a large open plan office, with all the associated background noise and people (actual people!) that I need to chat with and interact with all day long. From the first friendly ‘morning’, the random chats about latest news topics, and work related queries as people wander up to my desk (or I to theirs), it’s all a lot more people-ing than I’ve done for a long time. And my goodness it’s tiring!

It’s not a complaint, far from it, but it wasn’t something I’d accounted for when I started this new job, the emotional energy required to just talk to numerous different people for any length of time took more out of me than I’d realised. I know it’ll change as I get to know people better and get used to all this talking and interacting again, but heck it’s way harder than I remember it being in the past. That said, with hybrid roles becoming more and more prevalent I’m not anticipating being in an office 5 days a week ever again.

What’s weird is to think about how I used to behave in an office environment, my work persona isn’t all that different from my day to day attitudes so, for those who know me well, you can imagine that I’m just as chatty and cheeky with my work colleagues as I am with my friends. However the first few days in this new role, even taking into account the amount of information I’m ingesting as I try to get up to speed, felt very different, and very draining.

I’m into my third week now and it’s already getting easier so I guess I’m just out of practice?

It’s a big change at home as well, all of a sudden I’m not there for entire days. I’ve got about 10 mins from when I get Jack up at 7am before I need to leave to get the train (if I’m cycling in I’m already gone by the time he gets up), and then I don’t get home until 6pm which is an hour before he goes to bed. His bedtime routine is the same at least, bath with Mummy, then Daddy puts him down to sleep but we no longer get to spend an hour or so hanging out each morning, I don’t see him at either lunch or dinner on the days I’m in the office.

It’s a change for Becca too, nap time was something I helped with during the day but I can’t if I’m not there. Dinner time is the same and whilst Jack is much more independent these day, he’s an inquisitive and active little boy so you still need to have eyes in the back of our head!

And for me I’ve found some old habits returning; I’m getting lost in the overwhelming amount of information I’m trying to absorb, and with all the emotional energy I’m running through when I’m in the office I’ve not quite got the balance right. But I will. I’m keen to do well in this new job – it’s not a contract so the whole career thing is back to being part of my thinking – but the big learning from the COVID years and then the arrival of my precious boy is to keep a good work/life balance. I’ve struggled with this in the past, but it’s clearer to me now, clearer than ever, that having a happy home is all that really matters.

That means making sure Jack is happy and healthy, making sure Becca is happy and healthy, and making sure I’m happy and healthy (don’t worry the dogs are fine too!). As ever it’s about finding the balance, taking a few moments for myself now and then to make sure I’m not losing myself in ‘work mode’ or ‘Dad mode’, making sure Becca and I have time as a couple (we are super excited for brunch together next week), and of course making sure that the most important person in the house is catered for as best we can manage.

We worry sometimes that we could be better, do better, do more, for Jack but I guess that makes us good parents, we worry about that stuff and do our best to keep his mind stimulated and his body moving. I think it’s going pretty well, the last few weeks he’s started to string words and sounds together, so soon there will be one more voice for me to deal with and I cannot wait.

bookmark_borderQue será será

I start a new job this week – on a Wednesday for some reason – my first new job for several years. It wasn’t planned but as my first day approaches I’m getting more and more eager to get going.

Throughout my career working life I’ve only ever really wanted to do something useful, I’ve never really had a mind for building a career as many do, not had a view of where I want to be in 5 years and, as I get older that’s increasingly the case. Que será, será and all that.

My first full-time job was in my local McDonalds. I’d worked there through college/uni and transitioned to full-time hours for a while before landing a job in a small software company, made redundant from there I moved down south for another job that I would get made redundant from a year later. A third job for a year or so before moving back to Scotland to a small ‘family’ software company that moved to Glasgow city centre and remains (so far) the only company I’ve voluntarily left! From Glasgow city centre to another small ‘family’ software company which went through numerous mergers and buyouts before, some 10 years later, making me redundant again. And so to my last role, my first as a contractor, which lasted almost 7 years before they terminated my contract the day before our recent holiday in France.

My roles have changed throughout all those companies, I’ve never been one for rigid job definitions and preferred the smaller companies where there was more opportunity to get involved with other things; I’m joining another small family company this week and it sounds like there will be similar opportunities there.

That and it’s an hour cycle away so, weather permitting, I’ll cycle to the office when I do go in (2 days a week). Given public transport takes an hour as well, it’ll be good for my health and bank balance to get back on my bike.

And at the end of the day, whilst I am hoping to will be fulfilling and interesting, it’s just a job. One thing I have learned through COVID lockdowns, and the birth of my son, is that work is just that, a means to an end. As long as we can pay the bills, feed the family and keep a roof over our heads then what else is there to worry about?