Three Years

It is a fine week for anniversaries. On Wednesday, I marked ten years of marriage. And today marks three years since I started my job on the railway. It’s been a good three years. Don’t get me wrong, if they stop paying me, I’ll stop turning up. But as far as jobs go, it’s a good one. It could, however, have been my fourth anniversary. Or fifth. Or sixth. I had three unsuccessful attempts at gainful employment in various roles with London Underground before striking gold with a proper Train Operating Company.

It was their loss. Who says so? I do, with plentiful evidence from my attendance and performance reports. And their loss was my gain. The job I have ended up with was the best of the bunch by a country mile. It was worth the wait. The photo? That is from the London Underground. Of people waiting. One hopes that whatever lies at their destination was also worth the wait.


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