I hear a lot of people telling their tiny humans to “say thank you to the bus driver!” and they normally do. Whether it’s a quick thanks, a shy thanks or a bold, almost shouting thanks I always appreciate it.
We could all say thank you more.
Here are my current thank yous:
- Thank you to everyone who has stood by me recently. Notable thanks to close friends (that drunkenly ring me to tell me they love me), my mum, a couple of colleagues and my therapist.
- Thank you to every single person who works in any emergency service. Paramedics. PCSOs. Fire fighters. Coast guards. Mountain rescuers. Police officers. Don’t listen to what “The Sun” says. Have your cup of coffee in a public place; you deserve it. Every single day you leave your house not knowing what the day will bring or whether you’ll even return home.
- Thank you to doctors and nurses and physiotherapists and porters and cleaners and receptionists in hospitals all over the world. The world simply would not exist without you.
- Thank you to my goddaughter who reminds me that happiness can be found at the top deck of a bus or at the bottom of a tub of poster paint.
- Thank you to the musicians who have managed to say all the things I can’t say and better.
- Thank you to my favourite poet who has changed my life beyond comprehension.
Say thank you more.
I thought that, at 23, I’d be married to my teenage crush and that we’d be living in our own house with little versions of us running about causing havoc.
In reality, at 23, I’m drunk texting my teenage crush at 3am to tell her that I love her. We’re friends, it’s fine, she obviously thinks it’s platonic…
I was wrong about adult life. I had visions of me effortlessly drifting through it, ticking off adult goals on the daily.
Adult life is me eating a “funsize” bag of popcorn for breakfast in the car on the way to see my therapist.
Adult life is me updating my union membership to premium even though I don’t know what it includes and it costs £10 more a month.
Adult life is me trying to find songs I like for my goddaughter to dance to that don’t involve words like “fuck”, “pussy” and “bitch”.
Adult life is painting pottery on my day off when I’m hungover and trying not to vomit up 5 pints of cider.
Adult life is getting excited when my Tesco vouchers come through and then spending them on Pokémon cards. Pokémon cards for me. That I collect. At 23.
Is this what life is like at 30? Does Christmas ever become dull? Will I spend my pension money on cat toys for the cats that they don’t even play with?
Is anyone actually an adult?
From the outside I think I seem fairly mature and like I’ve got my shit together. I have a responsible job and people trust me with their children. Underneath that am I just an 8 year old who wants to nap, eat pizza and play in the snow? Yes. I’m not an adult. I’m a fraud.
One delightful way I experience depression is by feeling useless. I feel devoid of all emotion and worth and think that people would be happier without me. Of course, I know that these things aren’t true but unfortunately my stubborn brain refuses to listen.
Today, I am returning to work after four months off. I’m nervous, intrigued and extremely excited.
I have no delusions of grandeur; I am well aware that I am a bus driver. I know I’m not a doctor or a police officer or a charity worker (isn’t it interesting what jobs we perceive as worthy?) but people do depend on me.
For the past four months I have been receiving my full wage under the company’s sick pay agreement. Whilst this money has been important to my lifestyle and survival it has felt like dirty money. I’ve felt guilty seeing my wages on my bank statements. It hasn’t felt right to be paid for a job that I’m not doing.
Now that I’m finally returning to said job I know I will feel like a weight has been lifted. I will, even for a small portion of my day, be feeling useful and worthy and needed. Long may that continue.
Can we just talk about how my last blog was in June? JUNE. I’m not ok with that and I don’t blame you if you aren’t either.
In June, a lot of things in my life were uncertain; my job being the main one. I’d love to say that I’m in a super secure job that I see myself doing for the rest of my life. But that isn’t true.
In May of last year I applied to be a bus driver. I didn’t think they’d even look at my application, let alone give me an interview. But, for some reason, they interviewed me based on my unrelated work history and my lack of driving experience. I walked out of the depot thinking that I would never hear from them again but they called me that afternoon and offered me a job. I was pleased, obviously, but dubious about my future with them. I was sure that I couldn’t pass the necessary theory and practical tests but I did. I passed my theory elements first time but failed my first practical exam. And I cried. I sat there on the hottest day of the year (it was 36 degrees) in what was essentially a mobile greenhouse and I cried. And that’s when I realised that I wanted that job a whole lot more than I had planned.
Fast forward seven months and I’m still driving buses (just, I nearly lost my job – buses are hard to drive ok?) and still enjoying it for at least an hour a day.
Of course my job brings me a lot of great things (like money – that’s an important one!) but it also takes its toll sometimes. The hours are long and some (and I want to stress some) of the customers are… well horrible.
It feels weird to me that I haven’t blogged about my job when it is such a huge part of my life now!
Apart from my job, I ended 2015 in nearly the same way I began it; drunk, single and fat.
I am my own worst enemy; I know that.
And whilst I know things are bound to happen in 2016 I’m not about to set stupid resolutions and make promises that I can’t keep. I need to lose weight – that isn’t so much of a resolution as it is a fact. I would like to find a lass (this one is harder than losing weight) and I would love to continue to drive buses. Is that sad? I know job satisfaction is good but is it weird how much I enjoy it?
I don’t know. Maybe.
I’d also like to blog more. Although that’s not a resolution because I feel like resolutions are there to fail.
I hope you all had a very merry Christmas and an eventful near year (I played articulate drunk on NYE – beat that!).
Will I try and blog soon. Yes. Will I actually do it? Probably not. I’ve been eying up the WordPress app so who knows…