I’ve been invited by one of my old colleagues on the departmental newsletter to write a report on my recent sabbatical for an upcoming edition, and I’m in two minds about it.
On the one hand, here’s my first chance to remind a mostly appreciative audience of the wit and charm they’ve been missing since I was removed from my position as chief editor for being indiscrete over a year ago. On the other, am I still up to it? Who needs that sort of pressure when I’m supposed to be enjoying a little downtime from work over the medical equivalent of a summer break? After all, I kept up this blog all the time I was away in part so that I could show I was indeed keeping a record of what I was doing.
And there’s another consideration. I made the mistake of having a lively chat with a colleague about one of the lectures I attended on how to talk with obese people, forgetting that he is currently in charge of organising speakers for our departmental meetings. I regret to say I succumbed to his flattery when he said it would be an excellent topic to present to the department at our next inservice. Sadly, on reviewing the slides provided by the original lecturer, I’ve realised that they are very scanty on detail, and the notes I took at the time are no better. It seems I have little chance of producing anything but a very anaemic copy of the talk I heard that inspired me so much. I’m left feeling so disheartened that if I’m hit by a bus before the date of our next meeting, I would consider getting out of this obligation the strongest compensation for any injuries I may suffer as a consequence.
At this stage I’m leaning towards writing a brief note for the newsletter, suggesting people have a look through this blog if they have any interest at all in what I got up to. I know I’ve been dogged by technical difficulties but I’ve done a bit of fiddling and it seems to be much more reliable lately, with far fewer breakdowns, touch wood.
My acquaintance, the author, who put hundreds of hours into writing a racy novel about a Wellington anaesthetist, has finally given up hope of getting it published, which to my mind leaves a gap in the market. Maybe it’s time I dug out those chapters I wrote earlier in the year? Several of my colleagues have retired lately, all less than ten years older than me. Is it time to look beyond the workplace to my future? Unfortunately we’re still paying for replacing those damn tiles on our house, and until then I’m not the free agent I’d like to be. Sadly it seems my New Year’s resolution this year is likely to be “Don’t rock the boat! Maintain status quo!” Sigh.