Flat as a tack is old H right now. I warned of this a few weeks ago, when I wrote of that feeling before starting a new job. Well, I got that now.
I hate the whole process, for a start. Making the calls, popping a suit on and knotting your best tie around your neck, smiling inanely while still trying to project an air of gravitas, answering silly questions about what you would do in hypothetical situations that will never occur, or desperately trying to remember some pithy anecdote that will demonstrate your good sense, restraint and wisdom. Good grief!
That's bad enough but then there is the realisation that these brief few hours of freedom are about to end. That the endless and fantastic possibilities the future has held out to you in those brief few days are all now to be closed off, gone, all but one, and inevitably it is the most prosaic and uninteresting prospect you now find yourself locked into.
The door clangs behind you, so it seems, the sky seems distant and cloudy. You sigh, oh well, in 6 months it will be different. Six months!
Could be worse. And like I predicted before, chances are I'll ease into things a lot easier than the scenario above would suggest. Life goes on, after all.
