A strange thing happened today.
My workmates were discussing higher education and someone said 'well no-one in this team has any A-levels so it doesn't matter'.
I do have A-levels and more than that. For what its worth I have letters after my name. But I chose not to admit it for fear of appearing a 'clever dick'.
When I did this I realised two things.
- all those years of study doing A Levels, studying for a year in Snowdonia National Park, doing a further two years in Countryside Management in Farnborough and during a career in urban conservation sitting professional exams in Charity Fundraising Management giving me those letters, now fading, after my name, they had all become obsolete in the time it took me to say nothing.
- my old life as an ambitious young man in the late 1980's, 90's and 00's was well and truly over and that any notion of ambition at work had left me for good.
Its a sobering thought to know that when I chose to end my 'proper' career in 2006 I was basically ending any need for all that study I did during the 1970's, 80's and late 90's. I had had enough of the politics and compromise.
I suppose its a sign of getting older having to let go of the past. I have now become rather sedate I have to admit.
I am now biding my time in a routine job, from which I hope to retire from in 4 years.
On the wrong side of my mid-Fifties my new ambitions are all largely emotive I suppose: I would like to see my new Grandson thrive, I would like to give my Daughter away on her Wedding Day and see her Mother's beaming but tearful smile as the happy couple set off on their new life together.
On a personal level I would like to write more, perhaps even a novel and maybe publish a book on toys.
Oh and maybe own the metallic blue Stingray that's parked across the road like a life-size redline Hot Wheels!
What ambitions do you have readers? Or are they all realised?