Change

It being the end of the year it's time to do the cliched looking-back-thing, however I find myself for the most keenly looking forward.

I'm not saying 2009 is heralding the start of a personal revolution by any means, it's just that I am certain that the new year will being change on a number of levels.

Firstly, I've decided to move.

I moved to my present location primarily because it was geographically central to all the various locations my training and subsequent police station posting. Since I made the jump down here and managed to get myself successfully signed-off as a 'proper copper'- I now find myself living a little out on a limb. Though it was convenient and central for training, now that I've settled into the routine of policing a rural market town, I am tiring of the 50-mile round trip to work and back, the time wasted on a very dull- A-class road and the petrol burned.

Socially, those who live over this way all have families and don't tend to go out that much. Most of the friends and colleagues I've made down here are clustered near where I work. Therefore if my colleagues are going out for a social, it's a real pain to organise transport or places to stay, even for a simple few drinks after a shift. It gets a bit lonely at times.

So sometime soon, possibly even in the next few months, I'll swap this rural market town for another.

Change has come on a personal level too. You don't have to be Sherlock to figure out the identity of the girlfriend and probably have heard by now that we've sadly split up. It's nothing for me to discuss at length here, I have far to much respect for her to do that, however I am probably blessed with the most amicable break-up that one could wish for. I've gained a close and precious friend for the rest of my life; that much is certain.

At work I've learned that I'm getting a new line-manager / Sargent in January which has come to a bit of a shock to all of us on shift. Looking at the rest of the shifts at the station we're probably the closest-knit and I feel like I'm losing a mentor who shepherded me though some really tough times at work. It's another loss that I'm taking quite personally.

Change on a number of levels then.

Perhaps my life needs shaking up a little.

As the great prophet Sheryl Crow once wrote:

"A change, will do you good."

Give me a break

The portfolio is handed in.

I’m mere days from being confirmed in rank.

It’s a relief on the one hand; free from the self-induced stigma of the extension, and the oh-so-welcome pay rise.

You’re the first group to gain the NVQ qualification gushed the training staff back in the mists of time when we commenced out training.

Wonderful. I’ve yet to meet any fellow candidate who was particularly thrilled at gaining the qualification, or more importantly ever wanted it in the first place.

An NVQ level four equals something like a foundation degree so I’m told. Another line on the CV should I ever change jobs. But what does an NVQ in policing qualify me for exactly?

Whatever. I don’t care anymore.

Just bring on the pay rise.

Work are cracking down more than ever on using the internet at work; outside of work any murmurings on Facebook and the like trickle back to the station at lightening speed.

The higher-ups increasingly seem to deny we have life other than what is spelt out in PACE.

Seems the public couldn’t care if we get a break either.

Recently I was in a supermarket on my patch. Granted I was on uniformed duty, but I was tired. Hungry.

I parked my patrol car outside and strode into the store to get some refreshments.

Immediately eyebrows were raised as soon as the customers got a glimpse of my uniform. I could almost hear the whispers: Ooo, where’s the shoplifter then?

None here today.

I meander around the aisles and then dutifully I queue up with my coke, sandwich and Kit-Kat. I grab a copy of The Guardian to read in the evening at home.

A couple of twenty-somethings shift impatiently behind me.

What he doing in here? Hasn’t he got time to be out on the streets? One says under their breath to the other.

I turn my head to look at them and bring myself up to my full 6’3” stature.

What I did say, casually:

Sorry, did one of you say something to me?

No, no… They fluster.

I turn back towards the checkout and hear a nervous giggle behind me.

I continue queuing and stride purposefully back out the store.

Mercilessly the radio remains quiet still.

What I should have said:

You try working eleven fucking hours without a break.