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The diaTribe blog is our occasional take on life, the universe and everything. Observations on current affairs, the environment, politics, humour and music/gig reviews. Travel diary and extreme sports stories, along with the usual rants/raves are also chucked in for good measure.

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Oct18

A year in Bramshill

In the last few weeks, life has been crazy busy, especially in relation to work; both the work I’m currently doing and the volume of work being offered to me.

I recently pontificated about this to a degree, but since then I’ve received two offers of RedDot work, both based in London and paying a rate that makes me salivate even now.

And I turned them both down.

At first they both sounded great; the agents both waxed lyrical about how the respective contracts were only just over an hour’s commute each way between Basingstoke and London, paying a superb hourly rate, offering 6-month contracts with strong possibility of renewal etc etc.

And then after putting down the phone, I started thinking about my current role. Only a 20-minute commute from home, paying less than the London roles to be sure, but still a competitive rate and offering a number of other features that the London roles couldn’t match.

Chief among these features was was the chance to work at one of the most beautiful estates in this green and pleasant land. I’ve taken a number of photos throughout this year to try and capture some of this beauty. A handful of the better ones are available in the Photo Gallery if you fancy a look. They don’t really do the place justice of course, but they are the best I seem to have managed.

When I talk to other staff, they all express the same appreciation and sometimes-sense of ambivalence; they often feel over-worked and stressed-out within their respective roles, but they all have an appreciation for the beautiful place they feel privileged to work at.

When the workload gets too much for me, I take a brief stroll around the estate (and I often see others doing the same). I admire the views, look and listen for the wildlife, breathe in the fresh, unfetid air and listen to the relative silence, absorbing it all like a sponge. 10 minutes later, I’m back at my desk feeling refreshed and ready to crack on.

No amount of cash can compensate for this uplifting feeling. And I reckon that even though the commute for the London jobs was only an hour each way, I suspect it would still get very old, very quickly and I’d find I’d traded a chunk of what little peace of mind I can still find, for what is tantamount to 30 extra pieces of silver.

F*ck that!

So I phoned both agents and said “no thanks” – and then took my camera and went for a stroll…

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