On the whole, life is good as an ex-police officer, not that I’ve had a great deal of experience of it yet. Finances have been sorted & my family is now debt free for the first time in umpteen years. Our lifestyle has changed accordingly. We have been out a bit more than we used to, we’ve evenÃ‚Â been known to drop into the local pub for a meal or three when previously, this was reserved for special occasions like birthdays or anniversaries.
I certainly feel a hand or shadow has been lifted from my shoulders in more ways than one. The trouble is there is a sense of dark foreboding.
I now wish, beyond anything else, that when I planned the end of my old career & the start of my new one (regular readers will understand my new career is actually the same as my old career only wearing different clothes & non-cancellable rest days), that I’d built in a longer time of rest & recuperation.
A month off is just long enough to shed the clutches of the job, just long enough to start t get used to being away from work and doing my own thing, but way too short before going back to work.
I know, from conversations with old mates, that things haven’t improved in the control room, some say they have even got worse in such a short period. It’s getting closer now to returning to everything I didn’t miss when I retired.
Still, I must console myself with the fact that I no longer have the responsibilities & controls I had on me as a police officer. I guess I can have some comfort in the fact that if I get pissed off enough I can just walk out the door.