It’s been a busy couple of weeks, both professionally and at home.

I’ve triggered a sequence of work that may just give some of my team job security for the next ten years and I visited a site last weekend that may just give a load of people I hardly know today at least two years of work.

I spent some of yesterday writing the text for what I’ll say at my friend’s funeral on Thursday and I let my boss know in writing on Friday that I won’t be applying for his job when it’s announced in a week or two.

It’s a nice feeling to decide that an extra £25-£40k a year isn’t worth the drama that comes with it. Especially as the taxman will just take half of it by force and without lube.

It’s even nicer knowing that there’s probably nobody in the huge organisation that I work for that has a better claim on the role than me.

But it’s not worth it.

I spend a few days a month away from home and that’s more than enough. I’ve travelled extensively over the years and couldn’t give a shit if I never take a business flight again.

So… I’m sat in the garden, drinking a raspberry mojito and watching Cairo dig a hole to murder some small creature.

It’s idyllic – unless you’re that particular rodent.

As for the funeral, I know what to say, he was amongst the best of men and that’s the summary of my speech.

I’m amazingly calm, quite relaxed and reasonably happy.

Take these small moments when you can, recognise them for the victories that they are.

Enjoy your life, tell people that you love them.

The storm is still coming for us all but it isn’t today.