There were a few of my diaries in amongst the books for sale at the car boot....I picked them up and had a good read....I didn't like the person who wrote in them at all.
Good grief if I had written like that these days my mother would probably have been advised to send me to a shrink! Every page was full of worry after worry after worry. I was intimidated by people around me, I must admit when I read the name Geraint I shook in my shoes even at my age I could remember the fear I felt when he walked into the office holding a letter I had typed aloft in his hand with a grimace on his face. Day after day I would write about his moods and whereabouts in the office how I had avoided him, annoyed him....
I used to work in the Gelligaer Urban District Council Offices for D.W.C Morgan, The Clerk of the Council, he collected pistols, I can remember him showing me two beautiful examples he had purchased in his office, they were exquisite. I learned a lot from DWC he was a perfectionist and taught me to be proud of my work.
If anything the diaries should underline the fact that no matter how much you worry it doesn't change anything at all, Geraint if he is still alive would probably be mystified at my extraordinary fear of his criticisms, it occupied most of my thinking time.
I can remember the shock we all felt when we turned up at work on one particular morning to find that the Council Offices had been burned to the ground. Dipping into yesterday is fascinating I particulary like looking at todays date and finding out what I was doing all those years ago that day....usually it goes like this "Geraint asked me to take a letter, why me?...."