Tuesday, Tuesday the 25th of January and its a day I need to get up as I have my work one to one early, well early for me. I have breakfast and settle into my place on the sofa and log onto work. We get started on the nuts and bolts and catching up with with items about contact and me bring my manager up to speed with the conversations I have had with services and service managers. With all of that out of the way I tell my manager what I am thinking about the future and my place in it, I explain that I am having conversations about stopping working. I tell her that I am thinking about stopping either on my birthday in July when I am 74 or at the end of the year. It will depend in part on the outcome of my next oncology review in February and the conversations that follow on from that. I think I have had enough, I want to rebalance the home time so that my partner gets more time to do the things she wants to do as well as working full time and I get to garden and write. It seems a more equitable and reasonable way for us to spend the rest of the time we have. There is a limit to how long I can usefully make a contribution to the work and it might be time for younger, more energetic people to do the work. My manager takes it well and very reasonably so it remains to be seen how things work out, but movement is on the way.

I finish the session and then do some of the inevitable admin work that follows. A friend calls and we chat for ten minutes before we go our separate days to tackle the remains of the day. At lunch time my partner and I walk the village and pick a paper and some food. It is in effect a walk around the block but it blows the cobwebs away. we lunch together and of course I do the crosswords as usual. My partner goes back to work and I go to the Shed. I sit and write a letter at my desk with the candles lit, the heater on and the radio playing in the background. I’m almost out of pretty writing paper and need to order some before I hit “no spend February” or at least “no Amazon February”. I write my letter and contemplate the garden around me. Its a cold afternoon and I abandon the Shed and take a walk over to the post box, putting the bin out as I return. Its getting dark and colder by the minute but I decide that I need to train and get myself into my kit and into the garage. I row for half am hour. I burn 481 calories and travel 7405 metres. I’m tired by the end of the session and sit on the sofa to record it and to rest. We eat tea at 7 o’clock and I settle to watch a film while my partner goes to bathe. The film winds on as does my tiredness until I can no longer do sitting around and go to bed knowing that tomorrow I shall be attempting to complete my tax return on line. What could possibly go wrong?

Wednesday I wake groggy, It seems to take me longer these days to get myself going in the morning. I go down stairs for coffee and my meds. It is time to refill the drugs wallets for the next two weeks. So for a short time I empty pills into the requisite receptacles. It is a fortnightly ritual that prompts me to check that I have booked the GP appointments I need for my blood tests and my monthly injection. Having stowed my meds I get ready to go to the gym. I’ve decide to get to the gym this morning as this afternoon the office is free and I intend to do my tax return.

I drive to the gym and buy my usual bottle of water on the way to the changing rooms. I am on my favourite cross trainer and work steadily for an hour, burning 705 calories and going 8.28 kilometres. Its a good session, better than I expected. I shower and return to the lunge where I order a double bacon brioche and large black americano. Its a real pleasure eating a breakfast not made by me even if it is 12 o’clock. I devour with joy and then drive home. My partner goes to visit her mother with her brother. As soon as she is gone I head for the office clutching an accounts book and paper work. I start to complete the entries, checking my invoices and doing the sums. I eventually feel confident enough to log onto the tax website. Thank god my machine remembered my ID and password. Of course all the info about my pensions was already there so all I have to add in is my income and deductions. The system eventually churns out a calculation, which includes an upfront payment for the next tax year. I baulk at this and argue for a reduction. I submit my assessment and will wait for them to do their 72 hour calculations and send me a demand for the money. At least I have submitted on time. This year I will submit in April as soon as possible. However I am now feeling the relief of having got it done.

My sister rings me so I spend time talking to her as I potter about clearing away my tax paraphernalia. She is in fine form and is going to send me a book. Another reason to stop working, my backlog of books is growing rapidly and reading time is minimal at the moment. My call finishes, I’ve cleared away my stuff and settle on the sofa suddenly tired. There is a football match on TV that I stare at until my partner returns, tired. We eat tuna pasta, I get my washing folded and I start the blog while we watch “The lost Daughter”. Its Olivier Coleman being just brilliant. It will be another early night for me as I have a work team meeting first thing in the morning and then I have preparation to do for a support visit to a therapeutic community on Friday.