3 Oct 2011

Everything Changes...

Some people say I am backwards at coming forwards sometimes and it has been one of those weeks this last few weeks, in fact the last three weeks have been the kind that you just want to write off and forget about completely.  It all started the other Monday when I was the friendly neighbourhood greengrocer.  I put huge emphasis on the word WAS...

I quit my job, yes, that would be the job I bitched and moaned about, it wasn't the job that got the better of me, it was the owner who, well,  let's just say he was backwards in going backwards, he never seemed to get anything to go forwards and people like that are not grateful for what they have got only ungrateful for what they have not.  It's only now I find myself in a factory job filled with factory drongoes.

Me, working in a factory, yeah, who would have thought (or expected) that would happen before Hell froze over!  It's not that I'm up my own arse but I am rather middle class with my attitude and not so with my slummy mummy working class appearance.  It's just the latter is often overshadowed by the first!  I'm not thick but I do act it a little more than I should sometimes, to enable me to get what I want!  But honestly, a factory job... Me!  Really?!  It's not that I am not grateful for what I have, because I am and it's better to have a job than have to claim the social if you don't NEED to do so.  So, here am I amongst these people who are the kinds of people who have no hopes, dreams or aspirations other than working on a production line, putting toppings on appetizers.  Life in the last few weeks has been a bit grim to say the least.  I now own some safety boots, the kind with steel toe caps and I own some very unattractive safety goggles which are not very safe as they don't fit over my real glasses that I need to see, you notice the slight problem there?  I have had to wear not one, but two hairnets to keep my lovely locks in check and I have sweated like you would not believe.  I have got up and dressed for a job that begins at 5am, that's right, when it's still dark outside as your opening the door to work!   Plus it's agency work so you don't know if you're coming or going.  It costs £6 in a taxi or the whole house has to get up to take me.  That's not fair really now is it?

I feel degraded and more un-intelligent than I have felt in a very, very long time and I am dying to do something that is, well, not packing boxes or working on some scabby food production line where things go rather wrong and then I end up in trouble for laughing as the "apper-slappers" run around with boxes trying to catch frozen veggie-burgers as they fall from the broken production line in some kind of computer game stylee.  People like me just can't take things like this seriously.  Why should I take it seriously, it's not a real job, just a temporary means to an end.  I just stepped up and got any job so we can eat, keep a roof over our heads and pay our bills.  

It pays the bills, don't get me wrong but you can't talk to these people, they just seem to make grunting noises back at me.  I can't flap-fold a cardboard box in less than a minute or two so they laugh at me.  I am the "posh" one, I say that loosely because I am so far from posh but compared to these people I must be like the freaking Queen or something, they have little, or no personalities and the only conversation that you can get it "Av ya' gorra liter luvv" and as an ex-smoker that is a little depressing to say the least.  It's enough to make me light one up anyway!  So needless to say that I am now rather miserable and have a royally messed up body clock from getting up at a time when I should be sleeping which means I don't have much energy left for blogging, never mind looking for a real job that I can progress and be challenged in.

So if someone who cares is actually reading this, all offers are considered.   I can type rather fast, I can use a computer and do most things that involve one.  I can answer the phone, research things, photoshop things, I can design logos and flyers, sing, dance and cook.  I am a self confessed social media junkie and I was head of  PR for one of Yorkshire's best nightclubs before it closed it's doors.  I can write, copy write and blog, say hello in lots of languages and I can/will/do put my hand to almost anything, as you have seen from my chronicles of the last year.   I am tremendously hardworking and all I want to make our lives better, it's not wrong of me but I feel that I am going the wrong way about it.  it may be the wrong way but it is the only way that I know at the moment and it is soul destroying.  Please can you help me or help me help myself?
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