What would my 20 year old self think of how I turned out?

When I was 20 I was at Nottingham University studying Food Technology. I hadn’t thought much about careers especially since employment prospects for graduates were said to be the “worst they had been for a generation”. I assumed I would look for a job in the food industry but where, when and what never crossed my mind. I had a regular girlfriend – I’ve now been married to her for over 30 years – and a group of close friends all of whom I still regard as close friends.

I would have been shocked to find out that I only lasted three years in the food industry before changing careers and becoming a further education college lecturer. When I was 20 I didn’t know myself well enough to realise that I was going to find working for people as opposed to working with people a source of great personal unhappiness. I hated most of my time at United Biscuits and the only positive thing I gained was the reference that got me a lecturing job down in Somerset.

When I was 20 I never thought I would travel the world or achieve greatness in my career. And of course I never did. I certainly never would have guessed that I would end up spending much of my working life in a career that didn’t even exist when I was at university. As for living in rural Shropshire, engaging in creative writing and attending a “Walking for Health” group. No way!

“You did what!” just about sums it up.

My diary

One of the biggest mistakes I've made is not keeping a diary. I kept one for the first year I was married and when I read it this morning it brought back so many memories of 1977.

The boredom of working for United Biscuits in Ashby-de-la-Zouch (Leics) and the many trips to their Grimsby factory. My first boss, quite possibly the worst boss I ever worked for and his boss, nice enough but even stranger in so many ways. Our first house and the time our neighbours wanted to buy a large part of our garden for a few hunded pounds.

So much to make me sigh and feel nostalgic about. But 1978 I didn't keep a diary and as far as happy or sad memories go 1978 didn't happen.

We spent 10 years down in Somerset and both girls were born down there but I'm shocked at how litle of the fine detail of daily life 1980-1990 I can bring to mind.

There might have been a book to write about my years as a lecturer and teacher but without a set of diaries I don't think so.