Meanwhile, back in the real world...

The super-positive and not-at-all-fictitious demolition and construction story you have all been waiting for.

Imagine turning on the TV news and being greeted with a smiling presenter who says. “Good evening. Everything, everywhere is just hunky-dory. Goodnight.” Or you stop on your way to work to pick up a newspaper. And there, on the front page, is a headline that says: “The world is tickety-boo".

For one thing, that’s never likely to happen. And, for another, that’s not how journalism works. It’s not that we look for the bad or amplify the negative. It’s just that, if everything was fine and dandy, it wouldn’t be worth reporting on because that’s how things are supposed to be. Journalism lives in the space between things as they should be, and things as they really are.

On that subject, I received a message on LinkedIn yesterday asking why I was so negative about the industry all the time, and telling me that my coverage was “disgusting”.

My default reaction was to tell him where to poke his opinion and to point him towards an accurate definition of the word "journalism". But then I thought about it. And the more I thought about it, the more I thought that I should put on my very best rose-tinted spectacles, punch my imagination into overdrive, and to just picture how a perfect day might look if we lived in the same apparently blissful paradise as my LinkedIn critic.

Now, there is no need to strap in. This journey is going to be as smooth as freshly-laid tarmac, devoid of all those nasty pitfalls and potholes that make the real world such a bore.

Let us begin.

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I woke at 07.30 this morning. Sat beside my bed was a freshly-brewed cup of my favourite coffee in my favourite coffee cup, made by my super-model wife who is now lying beside me, naked and freshly-showered.

I pity those poor souls in the real world who have to wake at arse o’clock because they’re working miles from home. I am working just a stone’s throw from my front door. And besides, my boss is dead casual about what time I clock in.

I must admit, I live so close to the job that I feel a bit guilty taking the van home. But I do allow myself a small smile when I open my front door and find that the local criminals haven’t broken into the van and stolen my gear. In fact, while I was sleeping, they gave the van a nice wax and polish. The scallywags.

I get to site at 08.55. I could have been there earlier but it’s such a lovely day that I took the scenic route through the park and stopped off for a smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel. Breakfast of champions. Man at the shop said it was on the house, which was nice.

Work is already underway when I get there, but my boss greets me warmly, like a long-lost son. All of the lads are present and correct, even the agency boys have turned up bright and early. One of them rushes over to tell me that I don’t need to check my machine because he’s already done it. He’s also fuelled it, greased it, and given it a wash too. My cab smells faintly of pine forests, thanks to the new air freshener he's installed; and he’s even pre-warmed the machine so my tiny toes don’t get cold. As I start the machine, familiar music begins to play gently. That sly lad has only created me a custom playlist of all my favourite songs.

That's the problem with kids these days. They just can't do enough to help.

The concrete arrives bang on time, just as it always does. We’re all chomping at the bit. The guy delivering the concrete is a true gentleman, and he arrived with a big box of donuts, one for every man and woman on site.

In fact, we all take a step back and allow our one female team member - Jane - to take her pick of the donuts. How we laugh when she picks the strawberry one and says “pink for girls”. She really is a hoot. My wife tells me that Jane is very attractive. But us lads have never noticed; we’re far too busy admiring her skills behind the levers. What a talent.

We have two Algerian lads working with us at the moment. We’re taking it in turns to teach them English. In fact, one of our boys took himself off to night school to learn Algerian, just so he can help his two new friends through those pesky toolbox talks. I mean, we don’t do toolbox talks and safety briefings often, because our boss trusts us. But it’s the thought that counts.

These really are the nicest group I have ever worked with; and the most diverse. We have gay, straight and transgender, male and female, religious and atheist, black, white and brown and we all just get on like a house on fire. Never a crossed word. Work colleagues really are smashing; they're like family, only better because we all have the same interests.

You’d love our site cabin. There’s Peruvian coffee and Early Grey tea on tap all day every day and, weirdly, we never, ever run out of milk. I pity those poor souls that are eating supermarket meal deal sandwiches. Our site manager is a cordon bleu cook who just loves to try out his recipes on us. Lobster Thermidor it was yesterday, and I am sure he mentioned duck a l'orange for today. He’s also a dab hand with a deep tissue massage to make sure we don’t get all tense and stuff.

The client? Oh, she’s a dream, but aren't they all? Understands construction inside and out. Never changes her mind, pays on time, and thanks us with handwritten notes with lipstick kisses on them. Says she ‘just wants us to be happy’. I know. Mad, right?

My machine is due a service in a few days’ time. Hardly seems worth it. It arrived on site direct from the manufacturer and it has never missed a beat. Come to think of it, all our machines are running at 100% uptime and fuel consumption is at an all-time low. We’re so lucky to have such great manufacturers supporting us. Their dealers are great too - They don’t really have to look after the machines because the machines look after themselves. But they do drop by every once in a while to bring us gifts.

We’re working right next door to a school at the moment. We initially thought that was going to be a bit tricky. But it turns out that the kids - boys and girls - are fascinated with what we’re doing. In fact, while we’re enjoying lunch, we often allow the youngsters to take the machines for a spin They’re great kids, and the machines are completely safe. I think a few of them will join the team when they leave school - Their teachers are certainly encouraging them in that direction. They just love vocational skills.

We were all talking the other afternoon during our daily massage break. Someone said there are people in this industry that suffer from stress and anxiety. A few of the lads actually fell for that. We laughed so hard that Dave pulled a muscle. Thank goodness for the on-site physio. One of our lads said that some workers were suicidal because they were under such intense pressure. He loves a joke that one. As if that would be allowed. He’s always saying stuff like that. He told us once that accidents happen on some demolition and construction sites. He really is a card.

The boss has said we can all knock off early today. Again. I honestly can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be. But as I make my way to the exit, he pats me on the back, thanks me for my hard work, and pays me my wages two weeks in advance “to save us both the hassle”.

Working in construction really is the best, isn’t it?

Meanwhile, back in the real world…