When I was 24

I’ve just been oiling an oak stairs so my blogging/wine drinking/wanking hand is not in great shape (for any of the aforementioned skills).

1994 was my first full year of work and I started the year as a ‘road designer’. This was even more frightening than being a road builder. I was involved in a section of the design office known as ‘advanced road design’. This wasn’t the same as ‘advanced motorbike riding’ or ‘advanced love making’. It was more like advanced as in advanced into the future. This was a great relief to all the motorists of the area as the chances of my doodlings ever making onto their local roundabout were low (for low read never).

After 6 months of this I was summonsed to the head man’s office for a review of my career. There was a need for me outside of road design. Could they live without me? Who cared, I could live without them. In case you ever worry about whether road design is exciting or not think of a special needs school for people with asperger’s syndrome and terrible dress sense (vee neck acrylic jumpers, wrangler jeans and black shoes) and a ‘lack of attention’ to personal hygiene and you’re nearly at what a road design office looks like.

So I passed the rest of 1994 in an ‘area office’ . This had nothing to do with engineering but more to do with social work. It was like a glorified drop-in centre for the social miscreants of the given ‘area’. The engineering extended to the following 3 rules (that didn’t require 4 years in college):

  1. You can’t push string
  2. Water doesn’t flow uphill
  3. If it looks right it is right.

On the holiday front I went inter-railing by aeroplane to Europe. I was afraid of getting hooked on the ease of package holidays so I went off with the other half to Frankfurt, Helsinki (sister living there) & Estonia, Bochum (staying with a girl we’d shared the house with for the previous year) and Frankfurt again.

Now, all those places are nice but they are not a sun bleached island in the Mediterranean so it was a bit of a ‘fail’ for me on the holiday front.

From an activity point of view I’m afraid I was squandering my 20’s and the best I was getting to was a bit of swimming and cycling every now and then but they were definitely taking a back seat to my weekly investments in guinness. Looking back on it I don’t have any regrets. I mean, I had spent the previous 7 or 8 years focusing on studying, earning fees and exams so now I was having my day in the sun. Enjoying the golden days. That said, I could definitely have run  faster marathons if I hadn’t waited until I was 36.

That was 1994.

More stuff did happen but I’m just too tired tonight to keep you all awake reading them.

One last thing. The shit brown escort gave way to a 16V Citroen BX GTi.

Nice to look at but never forget that Citroen is the French for lemon.

french for lemon


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