The Lord returns to Branston

I write to you from the clubhouse of Branston Golf & Country Club. Those of you unfortunate enough to count yourselves as regular readers of this blog will recall that I resigned my membership of the club just under a year ago, but you’ll also recall my love for the place, and will therefore be unsurprised to hear that I have decided to return. I don’t mean to overstate my importance here, but the staff seem positively overjoyed at the prospect of my return – the face of my favourite receptionist lit up as I walked in. “Harold! Are you back?” Yes, my darling, yes I am. 

I recently made the executive decision to cut back significantly on my expenditure this year in order to quicken the rate at which I can pay down my declining but still significant debt pile. If I manage to stick to my budget projections, which is admittedly a big if, I could now potentially be debt free by the end of the year, which is a huge relief, as although it has always been an issue, I don’t think I’d quite realised the extent to which it had become a millstone around my neck. I’m 27 next week, and now ready to fly the nest, but unable to do so because of my remaining debt. By the time I’m 28, that option should hopefully be available to me. 

I explain this to you to provide some context to my decision to rejoin the club. I’ve cancelled a few holidays I had planned and will be cutting back significantly on social expenditure, so I decided I needed something to focus my energies on, and what better to choose than getting back into golf? The membership fee could, by those less interesting and wealthy than me, be described as steep, but when you consider the various amenities and member discounts it includes, it’s actually quite good value for money. Well, I suppose I would say that, but I promise that it is. 

Anyway, as I sit here with my black coffee, having just had a nice chat with the ‘Golf Membership Sales Executive’ (the overuse of the word executive in job titles these days is a real bugbear of mine), I am confident that I’ve made the right decision. I’ve always felt quite at home at the club, and it will be nice to get back into the swing of things here (no pun intended) with both the gym and some golf. A quieter year ahead, perhaps, but I’m determined to ensure it will be no less fun than usual. 

Unkind Comparisons 

I’ve had quite a productive morning. I went to the gym first thing, got my haircut, popped home to make myself eggs on toast, and then went to therapy. I have what might be described as a unique relationship with my therapist – in today’s session alone, he compared me to Harvey Specter (flattered), Adolf Hitler (not quite so flattered), and Dexter, the fictional police detective who is also secretly a serial killer (I’m unsure what to think about that one). 

Will is my 15th therapist, but also my most longstanding, which should tell you how good he is at being a therapist, or flattering my ego, or both. I’ve been seeing him for almost a year now and I’ve made real progress in that time, and I feel comfortable being myself around him, which is a remarkable feat. One of my most strongly held opinions is that everybody, whether they’re struggling mentally or not, would benefit from some therapy at some point, if for no other reason than to understand how to properly process emotions and communicate feelings. It’s certainly done me the world of good over the past decade or so. 

The Lord returns to South Derbyshire District Council

I returned to work this week. I’m on a phased return, because of course I am, so I’m only working in the mornings, which has actually been a smart move, as it’s allowed me to ease myself back into things gently, as opposed to trying to take everything back on all at once, which is my natural instinct (I like to be in control). I have a new outlook on work, which is already serving me well – I simply care less. Not in the sense that I’m going to half-arse my job, but in the sense that I’m not going to get in a flap when things go wrong, which happens almost constantly. I will simply escalate any serious issues to my boss and then get on with my day, which is probably what I ought to have been doing anyway, rather than trying to be a procurement superhero. 

I also have a new outlook on work more generally. I am unashamedly ambitious and want to do well in my career, but I’ve realised I need to stop putting so much pressure on myself to move forward as quickly as possible. I’m not doing too badly at all for someone my age, and I need to stop trying to run before I can walk. Ultimately, work is there to provide an income to fund the things that really matter in life, such as golf memberships and holidays, and my sheer intelligence and charm will probably carry me quite far in my career journey anyway, so the pressure I put on myself is quite unnecessary whichever way you choose to look at it. Hopefully, the time I’ve had off recently will precipitate a real change in my attitude that will ensure a healthier and more sustainable relationship with my attitude towards my job and my career development more widely. 

Hope in Humanity 

There’s a young chap sitting across from me with an elderly woman that I assume is his Nan. It’s just the two of them, and she looks like she’s having a wonderful time, grinning ear to ear as they chat. Having lost my own Nan recently, it’s making me feel slightly emotional, which is something of a novelty. It’s just nice to see, isn’t it? We should treasure those we hold dear to us whilst we can. 

Speak soon. H x