It has been a long time since I attempted 12 hours at work, it had to happen eventually as part of a mutually agreed phased return to work. It was never going to be easy and it was always going to be messy. It all started off fairly well, taking turns on all three desks. I was even quite bright whilst working out a particularly challenging (for me) plan. But it all started to go wrong as fatigue set in. I hit the wall around  1600, unable to to anything but stare into space. I found myself slumped forward, eyes open but completely unaware of being at work. Clearly this frail, ageing body isn’t quite up to the rigours expected by my employer. I have three more challenges next week as I am committed to a period of night shifts and this will be a real test, nights weren’t my strong point before and they certainly won’t be with the addition of morphine patches and what happens then?

Hopefully having five weeks of leave to take before the year end, I will have some more rehabilitation time before I am expected to perform miracles at any hour of the day. Another week nearer retirement and even then not a moment too soon. Friday morning at work means a breakfast feast courtesy of the restaurant (it’s a canteen but we are posh in the mailbox), The canteen has lost the contract to provide milk to the office, to our Office management provide Mitie. Unfortunately Mitie don’t have any refrigeration in the building and so are currently collecting 80 four pint containers of milk from Tesco every day. I foresee a Milkgate approaching but suspect Virgingate will hijack the headlines in the railway sector as our drink making facilities are swept under the carpet.

Based on the fact that I am back in at 0700, I will sign off for the night and ensure I am fully refreshed to return and provide the country with the service it deserves.



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