You know the more I feel my control over my life slipping away, the harder I work to retain that control. As my physical state slowly deteriorates (no other word for it) and the more my mental state in terms of my memory, even my speaking powers, become to a greater degree, unsatisfactory, the harder I work to maintain some kind of control over my life. No laissez faire attitude pour moi.
It’s a topic I’ve written about before in these blogs, so you know I’m not just making it up at this time. So given that this seeking after control is ‘true’, why in the name of all that is holy, do I subscribe to the importance of signs, omens, portents and that mystical hand of fate? And again this is clearly ‘true’ for me, that is, because I wrote about it in only my last retirement blog about finding my father’s birth certificate being a sign, etc.
It doesn’t make sense does it? And I only mention it again because the fickle finger of fate, remember that from Rowan and Martin’s Laugh In (remember that?), has seen fit to point at me yet again. And again in the form of an unsought for email.
This email was from the HCPC (the Health Care Professional Council). I’ve written about this before and also, on any number of occasions, about the connection it has to my retirement life satisfaction rating. I suppose it has some connection with my past need to feel employed all over again. And, to take it a little further, to feel important.
That’s pathetic I think you’ll agree given I’ve been retired for over 7 years. Mostly I think this need to feel important has lain down, but it’s asleep rather than extinct. Or so it would appear because when the email drops digitally through my mail box I feel that slight stir of anticipation all over again.
It’s not like I haven’t told them to take me off the list. That’s the list I placed myself on when the first wave of Covid 19 rolled along. At that stage I felt actually a certain duty (blimey) to help out. Young people in need and all that. But then I heard nothing for weeks and my enthusiasm diluted and then disappeared.
So when they did contact me I told them I was no longer interested in offering whatever services I thought originally I could. This was some form of Zoom counselling I suppose. I couldn’t see myself going out on the road again but some form (i.e. my form) of counselling, yes, that might be possible. But then no, take me off the list, I’m done.
And so it seemed to be until this last week and another plea for help from those people on the HCPC registration list. Surely I couldn’t still be on the list, could I? So I checked and, knock me down with a feather, there I was, bold as brass even though it was far longer than the three years they said was the criteria for people being regarded as viable for resuscitation. Fair gave me a turn it did.
But far worse than ‘giving me a turn’, it made me think, maybe, just maybe. The thing about this ‘offer’ was that it was for a limited period, 13 weeks, which seems like a strange amount of time. I’m sure there must be some very good reason for it but I have no idea what it might be. But the fact that it was not a forever deal did make it slightly more attractive or at least, less threatening.
And then there was the message itself, an extract from which was:
Educational Psychologists’ contribution to supporting young people has never been more important than it is today.
Hmm strong stuff and, put like that, only puts my interest in an entirely altruistic light. That as opposed to a 72 year old person who has never quite come to terms with being retired aka, no longer needed and is looking for a way to feel needed. No scrub that, that doesn’t sound good at all.
Anyway wherever lies the truth I have contacted, largely on impulse, my local education authority and expressed an interest. No more than that and, as it says in the email, an expression of interest is not binding on either side. What harm could there possibly be? Like the Irish stuff it’s just another one of those, run it up the flag pole, and see if it gets saluted. Trouble is I’m not at all sure if I want this gesture to be saluted. It would be a lot easier if they turn me down and I can say, well, I offered.
Well watch this space. At this stage I am thinking nothing will come of it and it will be just another mildly interesting topic for one of my retirement blogs. Hold that thought. They have replied in a nice and polite fashion saying they remember me, as well they should, given I worked for this authority for 25 years.
Although I have to say I’ve no memory of the woman who responded. I assume she must be the boss now. Who knows but she was polite. What more can a 72 year old ex-psychologist in effect applying for a job, expect at this stage? True I don’t want paying but still you have to be careful these days who you employ.
I started this retirement blog with a paradox. About the need for control or the need for the opposite, whatever that may be. I’ll finish with another. This blog being about applying for a job, albeit temporary so setting myself with a challenge I’m not at all sure I can meet. The Irish passport although not a challenge in the same way does have an element of not going gently into that dark night. At 72 I’m applying to become an Irish citizen? Hmm.
In these cases the paradox is that, as I grow older, half of me wants to close down, simplify my retirement life. At the exact same time the other half wants to push at that very envelope I myself have created. Strange times indeed.
PS.Yesterday there was a further development in this scheme but you will have to wait until Friday to read what it is.