Looking Back

I've kept a number of my diaries and from time to time, I look through them. Most of them I used when I was working and as I leaf through the pages, I see to do lists, meetings and appointments and post-it notes full of reminders to call people I once knew. My, wasn't I busy then... Where I've written notes, I am able to rekindle events in my mind such as when I was particularly busy at work, on-call and earning ridiculous amounts of money. I recall meetings with friends and girlfriends, long before I became married and a father. I remember with fondness days when I could do anything, buy anything and not worry about putting petrol in the car. I would drive for miles simply for the hell of it and not think twice about spending another £30 or £40 on a tank of fuel. My diaries speak of a different age and a different life, though scarily not that long ago.

I'm so glad I that wrote so many notes. I would moan about the hotel I stayed in, for I stayed in hotels for three months during my move from London to Peterborough in 2001/2. I would write about the food I'd eaten, the places I had been to and the people I had met. I would record when people I knew had died and I would note important world events.
Looking through my 2001 diary, I reach the page marked 11th September and see that I was busy building computers for use at my new Peterborough site. I see that I have written 'WTC bombing' and highlighted it in bright red. I'm surprised I didn't write more, but what could I write? I was in shock, we all were. The event was too big for words. On that day, everything stopped for a while and I joined the rest of my Churchill IT colleagues to watch live coverage. In the days after, life went on. The pages for the rest of the week show meetings, appointments and things to do with work that I needed to remember.
The pages from my diaries speak of a time when my life was dominated by work, by responsibility and of money. It all feels so alien to me now and I feel when I read the diaries as if I am reading about the life of somebody else, rather than me.
As I look through the pages of my 2001 diary, I find the day when my budgerigar 'Rubick' died - Tuesday 29th May. I see also the day my mate and colleague 'Blob' returned to work with us after a stint running his own company. I see that on the 23rd April I won £359, though I've no idea how or why. I also find the week when my Nan died and recall how left work early and drove like a maniac to get to the hospital in time.
Most of the pages in my diaries haven't been opened since the day they were written. Little did I know then just how valuable they would be to me in the future. Of course they are personal to me and most of what I've written will be meaningless to most people. Many of the entries made carry with them their own particular memories and recollections - some good and some bad and that I'd rather forget. There are things I've written which I don't understand such as on Monday 25th May 1998 were I've written the words 'Suffolk' and 'Dump'.
Amongst all the scribbles, the arrows and hundreds of phone numbers is a record of my professional past. It was a different world back then. Of course, it wasn't perfect but I lived for the day and didn't need to worry about the future. My diaries are a window on the past, my past and the way I used to live and work. They are the only link to who I used to be and the people I used to know... I'm glad I've kept them.