I’m at the beach staring out to sea. The sun is high, the tide is out, and I’m relaxed.
I glance around and spot a sign on a nearby pole. Free WiFi.
The local council is providing free WiFi for anyone that wants it.
How safe is public WiFi? I’m guessing not very. I Don’t connect. I’m fine with my data plan. I don’t need to save the bytes.
If I did I’d probably use a VPN. And then I couldn’t do any financial transactions over it. Too paranoid.
How secure is free WiFi?
I don’t plan on finding out. Instead I look back out to sea watching the boats on the horizon. I wonder if they have WiFi?
Having enough not to care
There’s something about having enough not to care.
What do I mean by that?
I mean having enough money, enough funds, that when problems occur that don’t cost enough to break the bank, your bank, that you don’t have to stress.
You can think: it’s only money. And not stress too much.
I can stress a lot about costs. Hidden charges, contractors bills, medical bills, lettings agents, bank charges, and so on. You begin to get anxious when the post arrives, or an email from that company. It may be nothing, but sometimes..
Having enough money not to care must be nice. Having just enough not to care.
Zero results found
Back in the early days of the internet there was a game we played with Google, where we would try to search for something that would return no results. We would do this on purpose. As more and more data made its way onto the internet it became harder and harder to find something that returned zero results, or even just a single result.
These days it’s practically impossible. Google will always return something, even if it’s just a page of sponsored links. And now there’s AI adding content to the results of your search.
So much data. Zero results.
The benefits of being indispensable
I’ve been thinking about the benefits of being indispensable. Being truly indispensable.
When looking at companies, analysing where costs can be saved you quickly identify the linchpins and bottlenecks. Linchpins are those that the company needs to function, and were they to leave, the company may struggle or even fail. Bottlenecks are those that slow processes and functions down. They need improvement or more help in order to unblock the flow.
Being a linchpin has its pluses and minuses. You get to feel how every employee should feel: needed, appreciated, respected. Time off is permitted (as long as you come back) and your requests are quickly addressed. Mistakes are not overly chastised and even HR likes you. The company needs you and makes you feel needed.
The downside is that they call you when you are sick, when you are on holiday, when you are not on the clock. Usually because no one else can do what needs doing, or answer what needs answering.
If you were to think of leaving you have to give a long notice period and your contract contains clauses into the future preventing you from working where you want, with whomever you want. Among other restrictions.
The benefits of being indispensable.
Downdetector
I received a call from my sister. Her internet isn’t working. Do I know what the problem is?
My mother sends me a message. Her friend can’t make or receive calls or texts on her mobile. Any ideas?
A friend shoots me a quick text. He can’t watch his favourite show as the streaming service it airs on isn’t working. Can I look into it?
Downdetector.
That’s all I use on such occasions. I Don’t even have to fire up Google as it’s bookmarked. I used it so often.
Yep I reply. The service is down.
I come off sounding like an expert. Within seconds the world makes sense again. The problem isn’t resolved, but just having the validation that it isn’t something they’ve done is enough.
Thanks. I knew you’d know they reply.
Good old downdetector.
Card declined
Card declined.
I’m at the drive-thru window trying to tap my card but it’s declined. Not authorised. Payment method not accepted.
I try another. Declined.
I’m out of cards. I’m sorry but I only have the two. I’m not one of those people with a bulging wallet of plastic, unloyal to any one high street bank. I scrambled around my vehicle hunting for spare change. I have just enough for the over-priced beverage.
“Don’t worry” she says. “It’s been happening all morning”.
Interesting. So chances are it isn’t the fault of either of my banks, but a problem with the common payment system between them and the coffee franchise, or the franchise’s own IT system.
I find it amusing that places like this particular coffee franchise prefer cash, yet cash is still king. It doesn’t need patching or rebooting. It’s accepted almost everywhere. Especially when the IT system plays up.
Not putting the time in
There’s an old saying. Something about two voices in your head, each with different opinions on what you should be doing with your life. The one that is the loudest is the one you listen to the most. Or feed the most. I forget the exact expression.
My point is that it’s what you give your time to that grows the most. That includes your passions. Or perceived passions.
I talk a lot about what I enjoy, what I love to do. But when I think about how much time I’ve been putting in on these passions recently, I realise that it’s hardly any at all.
I have excuses, oh I can always come up with excuses. But the thing is, if I’m not putting the time in, they are not growing. And can they be true passions at all if I never do them?
It’s all about putting the time in.
Let them go
No matter how hard I try, some people won’t stay in touch.
You are best friends, colleagues, working together day after day. Having a laugh, talking about your families, interests, life. Having beers, making plans, for months, years.
Then a change occurs. Change of job, home, location. You don’t see each other that often or even at all. But you continue with the emails, texts, messages. Then they stop, fade out. No replies are forthcoming. What happened? No response.
You give it some time then try again. Nothing. Some more time. Still nothing.
Was it something you did or said? Something someone else said? You ruminate, you play out scenarios. Still nothing.
It’s sad but some connections are not forever and through no fault of your own they stop. That’s life. Save your energy for those that want to keep in touch, to be friends, to hear from you.
For the rest. Let them go.
A lack of time
Having a lack of time. It sounds weird coming out of my mouth. Stating an amount of something that I don’t have. A lack thereof.
I started a new job. The hours are long but the money is good. I’m always busy. Too busy. Plus there’s the commute. The result? Less time with my family. Less time to work on my own jobs. Less time for the fun stuff. Less time to sleep.
My to-do list keeps growing and I always feel tired. You’ll get used to it, they say. You’ll find your groove and things will settle. It’s been over a month and I’m still tired, still looking for my groove.
I just want to sit in my garden with a good book and a cold drink or spend time with my family. Instead I continue to leave early, return late, and catch up on sleep at the weekend. There’s more to life than work.
Maybe next time I’ll negotiate less hours. More balance. Maybe.
People counting down to retirement
I’ve worked in many places and on a few occasions I’ve come across this phenomenon: people counting down to retirement.
The first time was during my university days. A neighbour gave me a lift one time as I was late for my bus. He told me how he was retiring in six months. He and his wife had been saving up for a long cruise and putting together a bucket list. About two weeks into his retirement he died of a brain aneurysm.
The second time was early on in my professional career. I met a guy who was divorced and was due to retire in two years time. He had a spreadsheet with all his plans on it. The main focus appeared to be planning a train set that would run throughout the entirety of his home. His planning was very detailed. That’s all he wanted to do after giving up work; to play with model trains all day long every day.
A year ago I was working with someone who even went as far as having a whiteboard above his desk with a large number written on it in marker pen. It was the number of working days until he retired. He would update it daily so all could see it as they walked by.
Today I find myself in a new role working alongside yet another counter. This time it’s a year and a half to go to their retirement. He’s planning everything he will do when he will no longer be working, right down to the smallest detail.
What I’ve learned from all these encounters is that these individuals do not love their work. They are always looking to the future. A future that is not guaranteed. If they get there it may not be all they imagined it would be.
If you hate your work and dream of retirement, change your work. Enjoy the present as the future is not guaranteed.