Back to Work Tuesday

The world returns to normal as folk head back to work, well most of them. Many kids are still of school and of those that have gone back many have skipped it anyway. The world turns once again, well not here, the 'Man Flu' still left me woozy this morning, will these bugs never end? So I sat here and 'rested' instead of following the usual course. The cloud cover remained, the sun occasionally shone through, but I just let my head throb and my mind wander. It didn't go far!
Tomorrow I will return to the job hunt, finish the jobs that lie abandoned, and go back to bed several times. (Actually I will not do the latter. I just say that to upset them who are working.)

Brain Strain

I had to go into the big town today for an assessment test for the job in the dole office. The recession is bringing 250 a week to sign on round here alone and the biggest job creation is the fourteen places on offer at the dole office! How sad is that? This, however, was a strain all round. A strain to work out bus timetables, a strain enduring the test and those also taking it, and a great strain enduring both literate and numeric testing. The latter was easier than the first surprisingly. In fact the bus journey was so enjoyable I almost forgot to get off at the terminus. Sitting at the back happily taking in the scenery, scenery I miss when driving with both sweaty hands on the steering wheel, and in a bus devoid of the worst thing about 'public transport,' the 'public!' Only a few dozy folks used this service and I was glad.

The town hall where we took the test stood in Victorian grandeur, full of pomp and full also of pictures of past grandees who I suggest were well pleased with themselves. Large windows, thirty foot high, with stained glass decoration celebrating the towns history and glorifying the rich personage who donated them let light into the halls. Everything was in tip top condition and well cared for. The excellent Great War Memorial, glass fronted and gilt framed, contained hundreds of names of those who did not return. Along the street a huge dark angel with massive wings stands as a memorial to their sacrifice, on one one side a mourning maid, on the other a downcast knight. I can only guess what the remnants who returned would have been thinking when that was revealed! Outside the building itself the main street was a dump! Dirty down at heel shops, not helped by winter weather and the colossal amount of traffic passing by! The Roman history is clearly seen in the towns layout, and this does not make for good road traffic management. A historical town, with a flourishing tourist trade but very dingy and disappointing today. The newly upgraded building clearly serves its purpose but I wonder if the council who use it serve theirs?

The literate test was simple - just find fifteen faults. I only found fourteen, and that by repeating one! The maths was actually easier and I am maths dumb. However I guessed rather than calculated, using the well worn 'common sense method rather than a calculator, when doing the percentages. It was all too much and I still had one to do at the end. However they marked them then and there, it was a quite simple set up, and at the end I discovered I had passed and now await a proper interview which surely I must fail! if not then I can only suggest the standards are slipping! Roll on to the next fortnight! I am glad that the time is earlier than today's mind. On the way home the bus, which takes just over an hour, picked up kids from the college who sat near me! here was I tired from a day of thinking surrounded by horrible youths - and most of them female! naturally this meant horrid music when the phones rang, and they rang! I know what they are doing tonight, when mum is picking them up, why his back hurts and he can't work and lot's of other things I could have ended with a rusty bayonet! But it could have been worse.....

Good job I'm not one to complain.

Job Interview

Leith Hospital


Lunchtime saw me wandering through the damp streets to the local cottage hospital (not in Leith, that one is now a block of trendy flats) for a job interview. Naturally I found this exciting and worrying at the same time. Exciting as I have had few opportunities for selling myself, except to some passing Ishmaelites and I don't want to go into that! Anyway, I was looking forward to this but a bit worried that they may mistake me as capable of actually being able to do the work! That would never do! An ex postman already works there and has explained how unhappy he is at the bloodsucking approach they have to his job. This from a man not afraid to work at that! However I went along rather hoping they were developing the staff numbers as a new hospital is under construction at the moment. Alas this was not the case and the work was rather as I had expected.

Still I endured the interview, conducting myself as the lass at the dole office had insisted, no chatting up the girl (it is always a girl interviewing! Sexism reigns in NHS HR Depts), fat chance of that with these two! Age and fat being against them I treated them as my sister, although she is skinny. The questions were not from the heart, they were written down and notes on each answer scribbled alongside. While appearing efficient I could not help thinking this limits the individual asking the questions, no room for thought here. I reckon these two could think for themselves but HR will not allow this. HR, Human Resources, it used to be Personnel but modernising the name helps raise their profile and make them feel important. So far I have rarely been impressed with HR folks understanding of the work they are recruiting for. Maybe I am just cynical? Obeying instructions I answered politely, avoided lies, although I was told to 'develop' my situation, this I refuse as I attempt to avoid deception, even though this does not always prove popular, and even smiled when appropriate. They were friendly and courteous and have already decided my knee is not up to it. This they proved by referring this to the Occupational folk.

Apart from a nurse who modelled herself on the Hattie Jaques 'Matron' character from 'Carry on Doctor,' even attempting to develop a suitable build, the people were as expected. The receptionist was sour, and failed to speak a work, why do they employ menopausal women for these jobs? The lass dishing out the patients meals never saw me, I declined to purloin anything from that trolley, the patients I saw were oblivious to my existence. I noted the sign to the 'Maternity' unit and wondered how many 'Essex Girls' were to be found visiting there. One suspects their mothers and grannies may accompany them, quite nice until you notice 'Granny' is in her early thirties. The hospital is aged now. Once ideal for the town it now fails to meet the needs and the new building is badly needed. Small local hospitals may be expensive, but in small towns these are required and the cost is paid back in the comfort brought to the townsfolk by its existence. Not that the 'suits' care for anything but targets and money now!

Will I get an offer? No! But it was worth wasting their time and imagining what work was like once again. Of course if they offer me the job there will be trouble!

Worker Dead at Desk for Five Days

This rings true with some of the places I've worked in.......

Interview

Today I had the first interview since being banished by the doctor all that time ago. I had expected to get a bus there but at almost the last minute I decided to cycle! Just as I was looking at the 'Google Maps' and considering my options it came upon my twisted mind that it was in cycling distance. As I have done little cycling for one reason or another I thought this a brave decision. However the sun shining in the cold air put the idea into my mind so off I went along the old railway line called the 'Flitch Way.'

The sun shone and with what wind there was behind me I made good time up the gradient. This is a great way to use disused railway lines. As I passed by starlings and robins ducked in and out of the bushes. Squirrels scoured for sustenance and happy dogs, tails wagging, led their owners along at pace. In the dip to my left the mist was slowly being burnt away as the sun warmed the land, a wonderful sight, but not maybe for those on the bypass passing through it! I had left far too early as I was unsure how long the trip would take in my unfit state, however I arrived just over half an hour after starting off!

I had brought my camera and wandered along the side roads looking for foto opportunities. Few really, although I came across a very old and substantial house that was almost overgrown with vegetation. In good condition it would cost around £700,000 at least yet here it was, two abandoned cars in what once was a drive, decaying and surely unsafe! What a waste, and the design on the chimney made me wonder just how old the house was, certainly nineteenth century. The idea of living out here with open fields in front and behind was enticing - if you have money and vehicles. Not so sure I would want to live there during bad weather of course.

The actual interview went well. The company looked well run and the despatch department was very well set up indeed. I was won over by its organisation and efficiency, and the men in charge were clearly able. However, the knee speaks louder than cash and well run organisation.
This work would mean being on my feet all day, every day! Add to that the up and down nature of obtaining goods to despatch, organising the store, parking the goods while awaiting UPS or whoever, this would all add up and I reckon it would be too much. If postman's work was too much then so, sadly will this be. I'm much tempted to this job, but with the knee and the lack of desire to lift and carry just as much as I did when I was in my twenties I am afraid this is a dead end. This of course does not mean they wanted me! There are several others to be interviewed, but I think they will have to do it, both for me and the companies sake. At least it was an energetic day out in the country, and my bones are even now indicating just how unusual it is for me to cycle that far. Ah well, as I creak and groan I will once more look up the 'situations vacant.'

Time to burst into tears again!

Workstep

Every two weeks I attend 'Workstep.' One of those government ideas to get folks like me back to work. It originated with the Royal British Legion and I suppose it grew out of their experience with helping ex-service personnel back to work. In my case I think they reckon I was playing the 'Old Soldier' and dumped me on this! Every two weeks I go upstairs and meet the attractive, competent, far too good for this job, young lass who assists my feeble efforts. Well at least she has amended my CV and no longer refers to my original attempts as 'dire.' So, after an needless bath,in spite of the cost of soap, I wandered off in good time.

I should have realised as I passed the sentry that something was up.

His smirk should have made me realise that he knew I was going the wrong way. His assistant was, as usual, sauntering about in the back of the auditorium chatting.When I got upstairs I glanced at the wee darkened room where I usually meet the lass and saw her busy with another so I sat down in the far side, the only available space. John, my regular dole man, was staring at his PC and trying to work out what button to press and so ignored me, I then returned the thought.

I sat and waited,

and waited,

and waited.

The elderly gent opposite, near the entrance door, looked at his watch, many times, and he supped some sort of sports drink, much needed for this place I thought! He waited, and, waited and watched his watch. And waited....

I waited, filling the time watching the women wobbling by.The thought passed through my mind that far too many were using the lift to climb one flight of stairs, and far too many sausage rolls were being eaten instead of food! Next time I will bring a 'Weightwatchers' poster with me and hang it on the wall to frighten them.

I continued waiting,
and waiting.
Others waited, no one spoke.
A 'Chav' wandered over from one of the desks where he had been chatting amiably. He sat along from me in that 'Chav' style. Legs apart, arms folded, brightly coloured baseball cap perched on the back of his head, his nylon fashion trousers in danger of giving electric shocks to passing strangers, and he waited.
After a while he was called to another desk where he, it turned out, was pleading, pleasantly, for an immediate hand out.

Then the nutter entered.

Naturally he sat a few feet from myself. Don't they always? He immediately began shooting at invisible targets over on the far side of the room, then the folk behind, then the ceiling, and on...
If only he had waited?
He continued firing at unobserved targets then, horror of horrors, he spoke!

"I have passed stage 11" he said, friendly like.

I ignored, surly like.

He returned to firing, and waiting.

The elderly gent looked at him from afar and glanced at me, I noticed his thoughts, they were similar to mine but I did not have the relief that the nutter was on the other side of the room.

"Got any children?" dafty asked. I stopped myself saying "Not on me," in case it led to conversation and merely grunted, "No," and stared across the room at two fat women tottering towards the lift. It creaked somewhat worryingly as they entered.

John my man then appeared and spoke to the daft one, he informed him the lass we had both come to see was to be found downstairs today!

I stared.
I then spluttered something about the waiting.

He grinned in a somewhat gratuitous fashion when informing me he had not seen me staring into space for the twenty minutes that seemed like several days. Gurgling with needless pleasure he told me it was the 'Scope' woman who was sitting in the dark room and I was mistaken. He smirked again and off I trooped. As I came downstairs the sentry cackled in an evil manner, and I began to lose the guilt I had gathered when informing the nutter to bring his sawn off shotgun next time."They would like to hear how loud it can be," I told him. It will be then my turn to cackle!
The 'Chav' crinkled his way past me to collect his winnings and head for the Jewellery counter at 'Argos,' the shop, not the ancient city state.
The appointment was cancelled and I just e-mailed her my failure instead of weeping at the desk as normal. I bet she missed that, especially as she also had to deal with the nutter. Once more it is back to the routine search, and maybe, just maybe, something will turn up. I wonder if I have any long lost rich great uncles near death out in New Zealand or Mombasa or the likes? Here's hoping, I mean, good luck to him, or her.....

Saturday

Once again the sun is shining and the sky is blue, once again the birdies sing just loud enough not to be drowned out by the noise of passing traffic. Once again a Saturday feeling is upon me, quite why I cannot say as too many days are like this. However I will be forced to watch one or two English cup ties on telly, I have already visited the market for the fruit and veg which makes up so much of my diet, and once more I am confronted with a long list of 'things to do' which has grown since I started noting these things on Monday. I suppose I had better do some of them now.....

I write this hoping to delay the need to write the FIVE job applications sitting beside me. No doubt some think I ought to be jumping for joy at the opportunities, as sometimes there is no employment opening anywhere to be found, but as I know before I start I will get nowhere I find a real lack of enthusiasm within. The letters will be drawn out of me from somewhere, the right things said, the CV e-mailed or posted, and they will disappear into the ether. Now it is not that I don't want to work, although I have enjoyed much of this time, but I feel guilty taking the dole, and would like to do something useful. Being a numpty makes this difficult. Time, once again, to survey my abilities and.... get depressed I suppose!

Success has been achieved in one area, the broken ansafone now works! After much wrestling and throwing it around I reset the thing simply by pulling out the plug! A clever person would have done this days ago! Now to try this tactic on the washing machine. No, that did not work! Ah well. It is probable it will not work on the VCR either then, nor the tiles that have fallen of the bathroom wall.

As I write this I am struck by the worldwide audience. Folk who have read my blog have been reading thousands of miles apart. Now this may not appear anything but obvious, however when I returned to London in 1975 there were few who could have imagined sitting here in North Essex and reading blogs posted in Singapore, the USA, Saudi Arabia and even down the road! To my little mind this is fantastic! A friend obtained the Internet in London around 94/5 and one night we went from a look into a Chinese University to a similar institution in Virginia! Fantastic stuff, not because of the content but the possibility of trawling the world for information, fun and the blogs I come across. My dad was born in 1908 and had he lived would have been in his hundredth year. When he was born man had just learned to fly, by the time he died we had just landed on the moon! Radio and television were unheard of as he grew up, and even when he joined the army - the only way bar the navy to see the world in 1925 - only the very rich had cars or telephones! In his mind there was a kind of magic that these inventions appeared and spread so that we had radio and television in our, comfortable corporation house, something his young mind could not have imagined. Our house is of course a flat in what we call a 'stair.' The 195 version of a tenement. Three bedrooms in exchange for the one bedroom and no bath tenement his mother brought them up in.

We take for granted these things today, computers on the desk, mobile phones in the pocket, cars a necessity in many areas ad flying regularly around the world,just for shopping trips! Even in the sixties flying was only for the wealthy. The Beatles flew B.O.A.C. to the States but most folk still sailed as it was cheaper. By the end of the sixties half the nation spent their holidays in Spain! I had a holiday in Hounslow I recall... The world is indeed getting smaller. However I for one am grateful for this invention. There is great benefit from all the learning available on the myriad sites I peruse, almost everything I question has a site somewhere. The football facts I crave, most important you understand, is greatly helped by the messageboards, even the Hibs Mad one. Newspapers, and the 'Daily Record,' can be read online, even videos of news, football and music can be found. Friends, virtual or not, can be found in every part of the world, and there are quite a few I can call friends who I will never meet but have made an impact through their writings. That's a result I say.

Oh dear. The football will be on soon, and I have done nothing about these jobs. The 'things to do' list is crying out for attention, lunch is required, and I am sitting here turning into an old woman. How sick is that?

Work

Once more I look forward to another day of seeking work. There are several forms to fill, pleading letters to write, and, lets face it, little hoe of success with the forms in front of me now. It is over a year since I was last employed, and in spite of the hundreds of forms sent out nothing has materialised. There are three reasons for this. One is my age,56, another is the beginnings of arthritis where the leg was broken years ago, and thirdly my being an idiot! It is true to say however that most do not put these three in this order! Confidence,that thing only women and footballers lack, is nil.There is nothing I consider I can do, and feel nervous about everything now. If I had followed the advice of my dad and trained as a joiner it would not be so bad, although no joiner would have let me finish an apprenticeship! Well, not alive anyway! I am not trained in anything but lifting and carrying, hence I was happy packing boxes or delivering mail. The sophistication of dealing with the cretins who fill offices all to often was beyond me, I discovered the hard way the unwillingness of secretaries to actually work, the desperate need of men to climb the ladder rather than do the job, and the soul destroying nature of office politics. My humour did not always find an appreciative audience amongst those so tight arsed that they had to be handled like Ming china vases. Sadly I sometimes failed to do this and indicated my opinions somewhat too force ably. Hmmm, fun though! In large office complexes the word 'work' is not to be used where the general run of employees is concerned, it just upsets them. These creatures usually start late, finish early, shirk when possible, pass the buck, and get paid far too much. This type of person complains postmen do not work! They consider dustmen beneath them, and that the janitor and cleaners are lesser specimens than they, just because they sit at a desk. Tsk! "To see oorsels as ithers see us." I agree some work, and work well, but I find the warehouseman and the postman, the dustman and the cleaner often more reliable than the one more concerned about their position or their 'feelings.'

So, as I have little training in desk bound jobs, unable to do what my little mind can cope with, and in a town where suitable work is scarce, and I must admit, not keen on working these days, I set myself to my task with little emotion. In the past I have been unemployed and wanted to work, although temp work was available. Such is not now because of the knee, well not the right type of work anyway. However I heard there may be a job working from home dealing with one companies complaints! This sounds OK, as it will be ideal if it can occur. But it will be a day or two before I hear if it is actually available. Cheered me up mind as it gave me a hope that I had lost.

The dole office decided that I had been out too long, and they have been very helpful for the most part. I was put onto what they call 'Workstep.' This it turns out is an offshoot of work done by the British Legion of all people. I suppose they consider I am playing the 'Old Soldier!' So I was introduced to a lovely 29 year old who has revamped my CV, crying "Dire" when looking at the original one, given me instruction on interviews, which was a waste of time, and spent the rest of the time chatting. If I get an interview I am supposed to take her along as she needs to fill out forms! Like taking your mother I say! Mind you, dad would have been awfully pleased if mum had looked like this! An excellent lass who browbeats folk into the ground but is actually willing to work. Not the type I have seen to much off I must say.

I have not done badly during this time. I needed time off after the last job, although not this much, and have spent much of it wisely. It is amazing how many things we take for granted we do not need, and only when they break down or cost too much do we realise they are not that important. Once money comes in, I suppose I shall start wasting it again. And it will come, the right job is out there waiting for me, I just need my eyes open, and the gumption, to find it.

Leith

The weather today was cold, very cold. The sky was dull gray and little white drops, not quite snow and yet not large enough to be sleet, slowly dropped from the sky. naturally one thing came to mind - Leith! let's face it, this is Leith weather!

I have many memories of Leith as in the fifties Saturday was Edinburgh's early closing day, Leith had their half day on Wednesday so Mum would do her shopping there. I went along. We could get the bus straight down the road into the dark four storey buildings of Junction Street. At that time the Kirkgate was a dingy old street awaiting redevelopment. The new breed of hope filled architects were desperate to remove the slum housing and give the people decent accommodation. In the rush many decent homes were created, and I benefited from a 'Miller' built stair for one, but alas too many nice we boxes were built without understanding the people who would inhabit them. Now we realise, too late, that renovation was better for such places. While the old Kirkgate was decrepit the New Kirkgate, with its shopping centre and small tower block, may be approved by the health and safety people but it has no character! The populace were of course proud Leithers not Edinburgh folk by the way. Leith remained a separate burgh until 1926.

I began work there in 1966 as a fifteen year old office boy, or 'useless idiot' as the straight talking folk there would say. This I have to say is a talent I have developed so well I may ask for an Arts Council Grant and make my fortune! I began my career as a failure in a whisky bond, one of many that were then found in Leith. These were dour 'Calvinist' faced places, constructed of large stone blocks,with iron bars in every window, locked doors, wooden floors and stairs, very much products of the nineteenth century. These buildings were filled with whisky in vats, Hogshead barrels, and thousands of bottles stored in cases floor upon floor. With the cardboard for the boxes to add to the congested area it is easy to see how these places were death traps.

Our bond was smaller than the one shown in the picture, but the idea was the same. Most bottled the whisky on the premises as we did, some blended it also. Our goods were destined for South Africa, the USA and to anyone with the cash to pay! Distillers are not prejudiced where money is concerned. The death trap is sadly a truth. In 1960 a large bonded warehouse in Glasgow caught fire and resulted in the deaths of nineteen firemen! The firemen just up the road from us had this thought in their minds constantly I reckon.

Of course some things helped remind them of the dangers of their job and our building. Now one of my jobs at that time was testing the fire alarms. This entailed phoning MacDonald Road Fire Station and letting them know I was about to run the test. "Aye right son," would come a somewhat tired voice, and then I would open the box and pull all the buttons out. "OK, right son!" the voice would say, and that was that. One day, not long after other firemen died during the course of their duty, I opened the alarm box at the right time, pulled several bell levers and stopped. I had forgotten to ring the firemen! I rang. This time there was no tired voice, just a man standing up and saying, in an alert and 'just in control of his words' voice, "Don't do that again son!"
I didn't!

The warehouses as you can see have all been developed into overpriced flats. The typical Leith folk have been edged out and a new, trendy type, is now found taking drugs in the pubs and the new cafe's and bars that have sprung up. I doubt however they will have many sitting outside today! The old public houses where workers, sailors and some extremely rough types, and I mean rough, used to carouse now are meeting places for 'Rory' and his friends. I think myself I preferred the chaps just of the ships!

The picture by the way (© 2003 Edinburgh-Scotland.net) comes from this excellent site!
I recommend a look if you wish to visit Edinburgh one day. http://www.edinburgh-scotland.net

Monday Morning Lies!

Start the week the way you intend to go on! that is what this government is doing. Today the attention grabbing headline is 'Getting People Off Disability Allowance.'
Goody! But why? Peter Hain appears on TV this morning blethering, in that disreputable manner of his, about the benefits to those receiving such benefits getting back into work. 650,000 vacancies he says, ignoring that most of them are unavailable for the disabled and not in their district anyway, 'Help is available,' true, but not everywhere, and he wax's lyrical about the benefits for those who get back into the workforce.
Jolly good, but all lies!

David Cameron has taken the lead in the publicity stakes so Labour need to get the attention of the 'middle England' voter. How to do this? Attack those on the dole, after all are they not all scroungers? Indeed 60,000 claim disability allowance in Glasgow, vast numbers do so in Liverpool, and many more in the north east of England, non of which are considered 'Daily Mail' territory. Ah the 'Daily Mail,' yes indeed, it is the readers of this paper who matter here. They consider themselves the backbone of the nation, they work for their money, they are concerned to keep it in their grasping paws rather than share it with those in need, and all of them are scroungers who should get a job and 'stop hiding behind their disability anyway!' After all, if they have to work, what is stopping someone who has had an injury, and 'anyway it is not as bad as they make out is it?'

You see the truth is the disabled, or dole scroungers of any type, appeal to the 'middle England' reader, therefore attacking them in this way helps prop up the Labour party and its desperate desire to stay in power. If however Hain decided come on telly claiming tax dodgers were to be dealt with it would lead to a disaster at the polls for the 'Socialist' party. Stop folk cheating on the dole by all means but do not deal with those who evade paying tax! The fact that vast billions is removed from this country to off shore tax havens (yes Mr Lampard we mean you!) and those grossly overpaid rich folks who do this are encouraged by the 'Socialist' leaders because it 'aids the economy' says much for our understanding of 'decency' and the 'fair play' for which this country is 'justly famous!' Those who have are well able to keep what they have, those who are not 'middle class' or part of 'middle England,' and many small business folk are here, fearing the immigrant, terrified they will steal from their shop, not give the taxi driver his tip, and worse, open a business undercutting him. But they feel better when the powers that be stand on those who do nothing for their keep, even if it is not their fault.

A good business idea is to go to Glasgow or Liverpool and sell walking sticks. Thousands use them in and around Glasgow, just in case the camera van is watching them and they lose their dole money. Selling walking sticks at a few pounds a go will make someone's fortune, I wish I could do it but I can't afford the bus fare..............

Depression

Very depressed today. Not something I normally suffer. Self pity, feeling sorry for myself oh yes, been there and done that, but this is different. Felt a bit strange for a while now. The past week has seen me very agitated and irritable, although that word does not do my feelings justice! Mad axeman might be more appropriate!
Just don't put a chainsaw in my hand and then upset me will you!!!!

Not a nice time really. Care for nothing, nothing tastes, and energy levels both mentally and physically low. In fact the physical level is higher than the mental, as I can still do the exercise but the mind is not invigorated as it ought to be.

This morning I once again sauntered around to the dole office to sign on. This went well but when I got home I was overwhelmed by a desire to just sit there and, well, sit! I found myself saying 'I don't want a job!' over and over, and that is how I felt. I sometimes feel I am breaking up! There was a time I could not endure being unemployed. Not only is there no money there is no banter with those around you, and in the last job that is what kept us going. If the job is routine you need to have a laugh and get on with it, we did, and that is one thing I miss. But today I was not interested, even if banter was to be included. I just want to sit here, alone., in comfort, and ... well and what? I just want to sit there in the sun.....nothing else.

Something is wrong. The 'zip' has gone, although 'button' might be more me than 'zip!' This is not good.
'Dear Dr, the 'zip' has gone.'
'Your right, have a pill or two!'
'No thanks, I think I'll just despair mate!

Anyway, tonight I will attempt to laugh myself to sleep with the 'Punch Cartoon Album.'
I Highly recommend it!

How to be an Idiot. No.26.

In the UK job searching starts with the newspapers and the Job Centre. In one we read the local work available, in the other an Internet search can be made of work opportunities nationwide. Both, I find, lead to dead ends! That however may just be me of course. Anyway, I have sought work through these means, and one or two others, diligently,in spite of what the folks at the Job Centre claim. What does the word 'Malingerer' means anyway? But I digress, I discovered another mode of idiocy this past week.

The job appeared ideal! Working a small machine making frames for pictures, or maybe just scanning documents as part of the process for a small friendly company not to distant and paid well enough for me. So I sit down and write! I compose a letter detaining my suitability for such work. It was good I thought, succinct and honest. I had the print out from the screen in front of me, and the one I obtained from the Job shop a few days ago. two different jobs available! Great! I pondered the chance of one at least being open for me, and I even began planning my day according to their hours.

The letter pleading my case, and I am told I am a right little pleader, appeared just so in my eyes. The references from previous work, and what passes for education from the dim and distant, oh so distant, past were clear. I checked the e-mail address and sent it to the Mrs someone or other as required, spellchecked for the third time,just in case, and after a brief run through sent it off.

Phew! That had taken all evening. But I was sure that if I was turned down, again, it was not for the want of effort on my part! That was a good letter,I felt smugly satisfied as I awaited the soon to be response. Deep inside I wondered how they could resist! OK others may be better, younger, experienced and all that, but apart from that, I was a very good option for this little job I thought.

Later, clearing away the deep layers of papers, books, cups and assorted detritus that appears like magic every so often on the desk I picked up the Job centre form with the job details printed in large black letters. It just happened that the name at the bottom was different from the name I had sent the e-mail to. Hmmm,two folk running the show I thought. On further examination of the two item details I discovered, much to my shock and woe that it was in fact two different companies, working in the same compound! I had addressed my details, really suitable for the first business to the second one! Woe is me. Do I try it again? Shame faced and embarrassed I pondered why I had mentioned my famed organisational ability, my attention to detail and my efficiency.

I sit here now, staring at the park opposite lacking the will to live any longer.

Still Unemployed

Yes indeed how lucky am I? I am so important to the world, so necessary to the nation that I am still out of work one year from leaving Royal Mail. The reason I left was the wee pain in my knee caused by the beginning of arthritis, or so the doctor thought. I confess I was happy to go along with that. My knees, both of them, were giving me much pain anyway and a change was on the cards. The climbing five story blocks of flats six days a week had done my knees no good. One day a week would have been sufficient for them to recover but they have never got over the strain that began then. I was delivering over 750 drops at the time, far more than anyone else, and getting no help whatsoever, and when I came of that walk they shared it between three others! The knees however never got over the stress and although I ended with an excellent walk, flat and delivering to good people on the whole, it was getting too much for me. Now I understand another 100 houses nearly are being added to that round and the young lad doing it is finishing an hour later than I was!

However glad I was to leave there are several problems trailing after it. One is my age, 56 now and even though I look 24 I feel 70 at the moment. Another is employers reluctance to know about arthritis and the third is my lack of 'skill' at anything other than humping and carrying. The fourth is the undoubted fact that I am dumb! This is not exactly a surprise to some! However having no skill, I have never even got around to learning to drive, money and time never came together, I know lots of things that are useless where employment is concerned, and my knee prevents me taking on most of the temp jobs on offer as they almost all involve standing for long periods or humping things. Both are against the docs advise. I could do some temp work, although I am now so unfit through a succession of flu type virus that just keep returning, and the lack of exercise that work gives, and I am on my own and as such wary of the long term effects which could arise.

What to do? There are jobs, and age, knee and sometimes sex, hinder. Far too few jobs are suitable, and I am wary of the physical side. Now you are saying what I, and many others are saying, 'Get off your knees and get on with it,' but I honestly have no idea what to do now. I occasionally get depressed, at the moment am to tired to care, but with the cash run out and nothing in the pipeline I sometimes wonder what to do. When I pray about this I am afraid to look skywards. I expect the gray clouds to part and a blinding, shining light to appear and a voice, full of love and care, to say 'Just get on with it!'

Ten Years Ago

10 years ago
I was in a similar position to that which faces me today. Unemployed, concerned about the knee, too few job opportunities, and no skills to offer bar humping things about. Some things don't change. Some things were different however. Christine had around this time given me money to buy a bike. This enabled me to waddle outside of town and gave me a new lease of life. I discovered the old railway to Rayne and started often to wander up that way, and it is up by the way! At the far end I would come round via Pods Lane and stop off at the farm gate half way down to stare over the fields towards the west and wonder what am I doing, and what is God going to do? I got no answer. But I was sort of healthy anyway.
Spiritually I filled the time by holding back from God as always. Wondering why I could not just let him in. I tried the Baptist church on evening and made a fool of myself in conversing with the pastor. I never went back. The message had said give yourself to God and I just sat there... I visited the local school, now demolished although that was nothing to do with us 'bringing the house down,' where a breakaway church met. They were having a children's day, this was unfortunate and the last time I went there. Not sure if they existed long after that. I think I tried the Elim also at that time. But nowhere left me feeling wanted.
However I at least had a sofa, from Argos, although the delivery man was not keen to bring it up stairs. One helped the other grumpily dumped the mattress on the level. It has to be said it was, and is, heavy. I think this was also the year I obtained my first, much wanted, Personal Computer! I bought this from a company that soon went bust, I had to return it once, but they made a pigs ear of it, and later I was to suffer the blue screen of death, a few days after they disappeared from view. However, now I can't live without a PC! How did we manage before they were produced? Ten years ago I knew little about the goings on at Tynecastle. Info was limited to what little English television allowed, and the occasional reference or Radio 5 or the world service. How times change! Now, because of the internet and the web in general I am well informed and up to date with the action. I also see the games via the PC! Then I was 46, almost healthy, just running out of money, hence Christine's loan, although she charged 25% interest! I was far too strict in many ways, had not discovered how to be human, was too much living in 'law.' Soon that was to be knocked out of me.
5 years ago
I was unemployed! I had just walked out of Rosetti after the treatment I received there. I was 'in between jobs' as they say. The landlord installed central heating to all our delights, although the cowboy filled my room with brick dust, failed to install the other flats heating satisfactorily, and was generally a pest. However, Nina left at this time. I was broken hearted, my life had come to an end! She had found another, and was off to France. I had put everything into her, although God had not wanted this, and I had given myself over to her. She had not done the same to me. We knew it would end, and it could not work. But she is the only woman I have proposed to. She changed my attitudes. I lost the primness, and loosened up. I also thought I had lost God for good (again). Life was hard, afraid God had gone, Nina had gone, and money nonexistent. Was this the time I dried driving, and failed? It was sometime in the past I can't remember when. Christine my sister was sick around this time. She was to die in 2005. How I miss her, and even her grumbling! Not a good time.
1 year ago
I was about to leave work. I had been forced to give up the enjoyable, but tiring, Postman's job. I had been happy there, but was frequently suffering anger problems. My knees hurt, I was afflicted by something. laziness perhaps, or just tired of work, and was wasting money. I liked the folks, well, most of them, and was accepted by most, sort off. Since then no work has been forthcoming. My knees have limited the work I can do, the doctor informing me arthritis set in. However Jesus in his mercy has sent his Spirit to call me by this time. One worry disappeared. As time went by I realised more and more of his love by reading the Old Testament. I want him!
1month ago
I was unemployed. Stupidity, know nothingness, and lack of skill has been a problem. But while ten years ago I wanted to work, now I am happy not to. is this laziness, age, or the overweight and reaction to the last job? The thought of the same type of routine, while that's the way it is, is not heartwarming. I am still not physically happy. Far too many bugs and virus have affected me this past year. I don't want a temp job s the ones on offer are to physical, and no one will give me a sit down job as I'm dumb. I must work soon, not just for money, it is OK to take the dole when you need it, but this week I feel a bit healthier and need to get back to work like everyone else. But I am not cheered by the prospect of more dire work.
1 week ago
I can't remember. My memory fails me all to often these days, and I suspect that all I would have done is copy today. Visit the market, fail to win the lottery, and bed early as there was nothing else to do. I also get tired by nine, and rise around 5.30!
1 day ago
I am closer to God this week. I am looking for answers and listening for his response. This is what I live for! But indoors, when all goes well I believe. What do I do when real life interrupts? Why this! Yesterday I spoke to myself of Gods love and was soon was tested by being scared by an opponent. It has taken 24 hours to find an answer. And that is one that is difficult to put into practise. Loving others they way Jesus did this is far from easy! But I will.
1 hour ago
I was writing this!

Eleven Years In This Flat

Eleven years to the day when I moved in to this flat. What a change from the London place. It took me a while to get used to this, although the couple downstairs with loud music for the first few days made it difficult. However they moved out, and as Easter Monday came upon us immediately, and I had to use those wee cards to pay for electricity which I did not have, I soon felt at home , cold, hungry and penny scraping. It was lonely, boring and I was not too happy. However, one day a few weeks later, I walked down 'The Avenue' and noticed the blue sky, birds singing and decided it was better than London after all.

Times of unemployment, which went on and on, temp work, packing work and later the Royal Mail job followed. Now the circle is complete as I am broke and unemployed again. Good things did occur. Nina being the best. What a wonderful woman she is. I thought she was ideal for me in every way, except regarding God. Her opinions were different. However she made me feel like a man, taught me about loving someone, and being loved, and I miss her still. No woman can replace her, and let's face it, none have wanted to.

So, eleven years on I find myself broke, unemployed, with no chance baby. Lonely for a woman, without a church to be involved in, no friends, no jobs, and staring bankruptcy in the face, if I can afford it. Are you depressed yet? Neither am I! I believe God still loves me. I just wish he would show me the way out of this mess. Happy anniversary........

I Told You it Couldn't get Worse!

I lied of course. This morning my delightful niece sent me a little note, black paper, silver pen, great for the postman's eyes that! She enclosed a pic of her two dogs, excellent photo it as at that.
Along with that came the 'Scots Magazine', and a brown envelope. As expected it meant my JSA has stopped. As I then went on to look up the money paid into the bank, so did my heart. Instead of £114 I got £49. Oooer, I thought. As I had calculated I had only £12 left to live on throughout April, this came as a surprise. I forgot I may not get the whole amount.

So I have done the only thing possible. Asked Jesus what to do? I am looking for the reply that brings a quick and pleasing answer. None has come. I am beginning to think that maybe he will not answer this one. I may have to take a job that puts pressure on my knee (and wallet) again. It is at times like this I wish I had been better educated,less lazy, and had some specific skill other than humping things (not people, that is not very skillful where I'm concerned). But if I cannot get one, or one quick enough, then what?

Is God behind this? If so, what is he saying to me? I wish I could hear, and knew what to do?
Interestingly I did a joke test this morning and discovered I was 73% Stupid.
Doh, I knew that already mate!

The test. http://www.stupidtester.com/index.php?ftrd

The World Crumbles Around Me

As I was setting the stereo to tape a radio programme I once again found the machine playing up. Instead of changing the time, it changed to the programme. All too often it does things it ought not! If I switch it off, it comes on again! If I turn down the volume the sound goes on down to zero, if I turn it up it reaches 90 decibels. It will not be long before this one reaches the end.
This is worrying me. Already I have a broken washing machine, the P.C. is broken, this laptop is not working properly and the video played perfectly, until yesterday! Now all tapes show up as 'snow' while the picture appears when fast forwarded! Great! The microwave is falling apart and will need renewing, and the kettle is leaking.

This would not be a problem but for a misfortune with money. That is, there is none! Here am I, unloved, unwanted, and no wonder, with no job and with a sore knee! Being fifty five means no one wants to employ me, my memory is going and I keep forgetting things, even peoples names when I am talking to them. I checked the money tonight and came to a startling find, I am broke! It seems that the benefit cash and the dole money is not covering as much as I thought. In short, my new 'o' level in maths has not helped my calculations. I am still a dunce. When I pay all the debts at the end of the month I will have £12 to last a month! I may lose more weight than I thought........

What to do? I cannot think as I am dumb, I cannot do the jobs I am used to because of the knee, I can't even drive and now cannot get the lessons I have been looking for. Employers don't want me, I have nothing to offer.......Hmmmmmmm looking good eh?

A short prayer. "Jesus, Heeeeeeeeeeellllllllllllllllllllllllllllp! Thank you"

Another Wasted Week!

OK so I did look for work, and with a bad knee, no required skills and age against me nothing happened. But what else did I do? Nothing!

Piled around me are things to study, lists of jobs to be done, books everywhere crying out to be read, and on top of them all....dust! Sums me up this week. I tried, oh yes I tried, but for several days I found myself just sitting there. Not thinking anything, just blandly staring out the window, or just sitting. Actually it was quite enjoyable to do that. Instead of having to do things, read this, write that, get up and do, just sitting for a while in the quiet, with the various noises of life outside not really intruding made a restful change. I did in fact read some of the Joe Lee book. Written, unfortunately, in a 'Sunday Post' manner but worth a look nonetheless. Not enough about his time during the Great War for me, but I suppose like so many others he did not talk too much about it afterwards. The books of his adventures no doubt missed out much of the sights he saw. Those men, like soldiers today, rarely find outsiders who understand how they comprehend their warfare.

Now, after what can laughingly be called exercise, I feel more up for it......hold on, maybe another cup of tea, as everything can wait can't it? I will do the job search this afternoon maybe, and the study then also, and maybe I should just play that 'Blast Billiards' game until the Spirit moves me......

Maths

Dear Reader,

Note I don't say readers! As part of my effort to impress the job shop that I am in fact making an effort to seek work, I undertook a course with 'Learn Direct.' This seemed at first a really good idea. So I chose the English and Maths free options. The staff there are friendly, helpful and capable. Quickly they understood that I was an idiot (please refer to previous posts) and handled me accordingly. The English was dealt with quickly. I was tested and found to be good enough to do the test for a low type of 'O' level immediately. This was done and I await the results. What bothered me was the ease of the exam. I will not get 100% but I do feel the test was all too easy.
That tells us something about the number of successful passes among the kids today!

However, there is a great problem. I failed miserably the maths! So before I do the 'O' level I have to work towards this. Here lie dragons! You see, it is forty years since I have done sums. Forty years! occasionally work has meant some element of counting, and habit makes perfect, and while working such maths became easy to deal with. But apart from counting my change and keeping track of my budget I do no maths whatsoever , and have not done so for years!

Guess what? I am struggling!
I never understood the question,'If a train takes 2 hours to get from A to B what speed was it doing?' Who cares? But when I am asked to not only discover the speed, but translate this into kilometres I find my brain hurting! I have spent a week either struggling to understand the question or failing to read the thing and ending up miles away from the answer required.
Just like school days eh?

I found myself desperately looking for a job at one point just to escape the 'Millilitres into pints' question! Oh my head......

Hard Work Looking For Work!

Looking for work is harder than working, especially when there are limits in what you can do.
So I buy the relevant papers, lookup the pertinent websites, and ask around, or network as they call it now, in order to see what might be available.
But depression is not far away.
Why? No matter how good or bad you are. No matter your age, talent, knowledge, experience and willingness there is always the problem that suitable employment just does not exist!
If you have a degree employers think you are 'over qualified for the job. If you are like me, you have not got enough qualifications! You can be to old or young, even though they will not say so now, too inexperienced, or wrongly experienced. There may be something you lack, in my case a driving license, or the distance is too much. Disability, as with my arthritic knee, will be a problem, however some look for a disabled employee to make it look like the company 'cares!'
And in the end, the money is poor. Round here anyway.
One major problem is caused by living in a small town. Even major cities can make job finding difficult, but little market towns leave little leeway for those with few skills.
So, if you know of a vacancy for a no nothing who likes photography, history, football (naturally) and is trained only in humping things, who is not keen on dealing with people, wants to work more or less on his own, is broke, can't drive, and is a headcase, please call!
I sit here in my depression, waiting.