Sam is home

Sam is home. He has been home since the beginning of July. 

I told you he got retrenched. Second time. It is the way of the world now. Don't think you have any security in your job now a days, because you don't. All those extra hours you put in won't protect you when the axe comes. I have never understood why we all do those extra hours, you don't see your employer giving away legal advice for nothing, or your tech company doing software for gratis, now do you? The moral basis for business has evaporated, if business ever had a moral basis? (Good old days? Nyer.) Now, business would chop its mother into small, gruesome pieces and sell those pieces as a cancer cure-all, if that is what it took to survive.

So Sam starts his new job in a week. He has been distracting me, I haven't had time to myself to write anything. Sam likes to keep me busy doing stuff. You know, you must "do" keep on "doing" because you know that is what life is all about. So we have been "doing" house things and driving to the country to visit friends, all very lovely, and with my seal of approval - even if it meant I had to move my lazy arse out the door.

We were going to go to Tokyo. And then we were going to go to Bali. Then it was New Zealand. You know, get away. Take a holiday. But, I find my fear of flying has come back. I never was scared of flying, I rather loved it, but then I was young. Then, when I was coming home from living in London for an extended period, all of those plane crashes happened. I booked my ticket to return to Aus and it seemed to be the trigger for a multitude of plane crashes, so much so that by the time I was getting on the plane to fly home just before Xmas it was foremost on my mind. Then it just developed from there like a virus. And for quite a few years I was the sweaty palmed, ashen white, nervous flier. Then some years after that, I remember I was flying to the Gold Coast on my own and I just decided that I was sick of all the wasted energy it took to be scared of flying. I used to drive up to the country late on Friday nights, accelerating up to 130, 140 kph once I'd got onto the back roads, never once worrying about my safety and it occurred to me as that Gold Coast bound plane taxied out to the run way, if I could drive like that with never a care, I could relax and let the pilot do his thing without being scared. And for the longest time I flew places without being scared at all.

But with all of these planes being blown up by radical muslims and being shot down by the Russians, and being carelessly lost by the Malaysians, my fear of flying has crept back and now I am like scared again. So, I wasn't so keen to fly anywhere. Poor Sam.

So he has kept my busy while he is off work.

Anyway, I'll write something in a week.