So long, Scientia, and thanks for all the toast.

42: the meaning of life. Statistically, there’s more time behind me than ahead. I don’t feel sad, though, only excited. Here’s why:

Almost two months ago, after two-and-a-half interesting, challenging - and yes, sometimes even enjoyable - years, I left Scientia with mixed emotions and little fanfare. Suffice it to say that the stars aligned and I was able to do something I’ve long dreamed about: take a significant break from employment without the risk of being featured in a Channel 5 documentary about bailiffs. Oh, and work out how I want to spend the second half of my working life.

Two months in, have I done that? Sort of. But what I have done is infinitely more valuable: I’ve relaxed – like, properly relaxed without the creeping dread which used to appear at the end of a holiday; I’ve spent more time with my family; I’ve cooked for pleasure, not just necessity; I’ve danced to synth-pop in my kitchen; I’ve walked, cycled and run whenever I wanted to; I’ve met friends for lunch; I’ve ticked off a lot of domestic jobs from the previously unassailable to-do list; I’ve napped; and I’ve just…been.  

Sure, we’ve had to cut back a bit at home to enable this frivolity (and to not work does feel ridiculously frivolous), but the mortgage still gets paid, we haven’t starved (“Moss again, Dad?”) and I can still (just about) afford my Wine Society subscription (for now). Joking aside, I feel incredibly privileged to be able to do this. I appreciate that this level of self-determination is not in everyone’s gift. I must remember to buy my wife some flowers. But like all good things, funemployment must come to an end.

Importantly, I’ve had the space to figure out what I definitely don’t want from here on in work-wise: what, did you really expect a list of thinly-veiled grievances against former employers? My attorney advised against this - though he is notoriously unreliable. Honestly, my main gripes with being an employee could probably be applied to almost AnyJob at AnyCorp – though maybe I just haven’t worked for enough trendy Shoreditch start-ups. For now, there’s only one solution as I see it: go it alone.

And so we finally arrive at the salient point of this needlessly long-winded post: I've started a company. Well, I’m a registered sole trader, anyway. I’ve got a website and a twitter feed and even one client. I can now sit back and watch the work flood in, right?

Look, it’s very early days: no case studies yet; no 30-hours-of-free-childcare-HMRC-appeasing-minimum-income. But those things are coming, oh yes, and if they don’t, there’s only one person to blame: moi. That’s more than enough to get me out of bed, into the Porsche and over to my club in the mornings. Nothing is ever perfect or finished, so why wait to start talking about it? I’m going to make my mistakes in public. I hope you’ll be kind and helpful and supportive (I'm learning that there is a vast and knowledgable marketing and communications network in Cambridge). Above all, I hope you’ll get in touch if you think we could work together.

Everyone wants to know: do I miss work? The reassuring regularity of it? The paid holidays and sick leave? The private dental plan? Nah - not those bits, anyway. When you boil it down, work is people and I met some extraordinary ones in my tenure with Scientia - colleagues, clients, partners and suppliers included. It was a fascinating insight into a world which is rarely considered but is fundamental to academic success: timetabling. I worked on some interesting projects which have had positive, measurable and lasting outcomes. I left knowing that my legacy is greater than the mysterious stain on my chair. I wish the company and my former colleagues nothing but the best.

But when all is said and done, my abiding memory is not the conferences, case studies or collateral. It's the endless supply of rich Jersey butter which greeted me every morning in the staff kitchen like an old friend. So I’ll finish this post as I started it: by paraphrasing The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. So long, Scientia, and thanks for all the toast.