It's only a four year all clear post.

I just can't seem to let the 24th October go by without some kind of comment. Four years is simultaneously a lifetime ago, and scarily recent. I haven't banged on about it so much this year, but it is still very much in my thoughts. A lot has happened since that day, yet I can't help dwelling on it. It feels oddly lonely that it still means something to only me.


Today is also the first day of my first contact as a self enjoyed grown up, so I have lots to distract me.


Happy brain day to me.

Next chapter.

I've only flipping gone and done it - I am officially, and voluntarily, unemployed. Soon to be self employed. This may be what's known as a midlife crisis. Eek.

People often ask me if having kids has changed me. I mostly say no, I'm still me underneath, just more tired and a even more bedraggled, if that was ever possible. But I'm starting to notice that actually I have changed. I'm not so sure it's down to having kids, or even braingate, so much as just getting older.

I often find myself not giving much of a shit about things that would have previously bothered me. Like sitting in a pub on my own. Or having clean hair. I mean *not* having clean hair... what's clean hair? But at the same time I have become weirdly focussed on things that I care about.

Nowadays, I care about my children and spending time with them. But a lot of what I really like doing with them is expensive. It's sitting around with our friends in cafes and pubs and groups where they jump around and exhaust themselves. It's getting pizza for lunch and going to the London Transport Museum. It's buying comedy mini clothing and brand name trainers. (Guilty).

So I need to work. Not just to pay for all that stuff, but also to keep me sane. I love being useful at things and adding value, but only some of the time because I really, really want to see my children at least three days out of the week. Ok, four.

Having initially found my employer wasn't too keen on me only working three out of five days, I focussed on finding a way to go it alone, as a contractor. My plan was to earn a shed load of money - full time if I needed to - on an astronomical day rate, then take some time out of work to dally around in the cafes of Camberwell. So I gung-ho-style handed in my notice.

THREE MONTHS down the line, and I have finally left.

I have always been the most risk-averse person I know, except for Dad, so I'm not quite sure how I managed to convince myself to do this, and why I'm not more terrified. I have changed. The things that matter to me now, matter more than anything has ever mattered, and that makes the risk worthwhile. I am more confident, more willing to go for what I really want and genuinely excited that things are about to be very different. (And I'm also a little bit terrified...)

Hit me up if you need any freelance writing or project / change management doing :)