I’m writing this at 9am on Monday 1 July.

It’s the start of a new day, the start of a new week and the start of a new month.

What better way to start anew.

For today is the first day when I’m not officially working, the first week when I don’t have an online calendar of events, the first month when I don’t have a formal schedule of activity.

Someone tells me “today is the first day of the rest of your life”. It’s an expression that’s been said to me only once before: 35 years ago this month when I graduated at the age of 21 and soon after entered the world of work.

I’ve worked continually since then. But today, no more. Today is the first day after my post was made redundant and I left the company where I’ve worked for nearly 26 years.

The news is not official yet and there are still forms to sign and agreements to reach.

Day one brings a sense of freedom – mostly freedom from the commute to work by train and I feel for all those passengers making their way to their offices, particularly in hot weather.

I do like Mondays.

I’ve made sure my diary isn’t completely blank. I wanted to have some events to attend and appointments to keep to maintain social contact and a sense of purpose.

I’ve booked to attend a talk tomorrow night on the ‘Poetry of the Great War’ and I have a dentist appointment on Thursday. Good old Parkinson’s law: “work expands to fill the time available for its completion”. Those two events are making me look forward, moving on, leaving the past behind, starting a new phase.

A leisurely breakfast and a read of the newspaper fill some of the morning.

Then late morning the phone rings. It’s the organisers of the poetry talk letting me know the speaker is ill so the event is being postponed.

I thank them politely for letting me know and ask them to keep me informed if and when the event is rearranged. Secretly I’m deeply disappointed that half my planned activity for the week has just been wiped out.

If only my dentist knew just how much is riding on my appointment on Thursday.