the Eternal countdown

I hate to say it but I’ve begun to hate living in this country. Or maybe I just hate my life? (how dramatic) Sadly I think it’s more a case of the former. I say sadly because I’m really quite proud to be British. We’re good at so many things – we’ve great musicians, great sportsmen and sportswomen, great actors, artists, comedians; we’ve even started to win at tennis (yeah, you’re still British Murray).

But economically, Britain is just a shambles. I repeat, I hate ‘living’ in this country, because it’s the living part that’s the problem. I find that I’m getting more and more desperate to leave. I’m going travelling to Australia and already have my working visa. I have my sights set on leaving the beginning of April, but as time passes and the weeks roll by, rather than my departure date seemingly creep ever closer I feel as though I’m going to be stuck here forever and that it can’t come soon enough. I literally cannot wait to leave because the more time that passes in between now and my flight, the more depressed I become and the greater the chance there is for further disappointment

On the 1st of January 2013 I found out I no longer had any more hours at ASDA. This ballsed up all my plans because I was hoping to keep working to save a significant amount of money to go to Oz with. I’d planned to work over there from the beginning because I want to stay for at least 5-6 months, but I still needed enough for flights and accommodation and a bit to keep me going for a while. As soon as I found out I had no more work I started applying for other jobs immediately. I almost got a full-time job with a temp agency, but after not hearing back from them, I found out days later after chasing it up, that the department hadn’t wanted me because I needed 3 days holiday (for my driving test and a gig that I have booked).

The job, as well as any other job I’d get via the agency, is over an hour away in the nearest city and would have been exhausting and a pain in the ass to travel each day (as I have no car and can’t drive – obviously). However it was a full-time job, something which seems to be non-existent in Cornwall, and would have meant a significant sum of money at the end.

I’ve had no success with any of my other applications and was starting to wonder whether I should leave for Australia earlier – around the middle of March, after going to the gig I’ve booked and paid for. However I was torn over the prospect of getting some work over Easter at ASDA. If I was definitely going to be here til the middle of March, was it worth staying on another 4 weeks and getting some extra cash? This conundrum was made obsolete when I failed my driving test (for driving into a no entry road…) I’d have to stay ’til the end of March to retake it.

Then a second blow. After all that uncertainty over when to leave, my plans were blown to smithereens again after dropping in to do some shopping today. I bumped into my manager and asked about work; and despite being asked back last Easter and working 8 hour shifts every day, and the Easter before and every Easter I can remember, he said there would definitely be no work for me. They’re overspent enough as it is. This was a blow. After debating whether to stay in the UK for longer to get some extra cash, the decision was made for me; not only did I have to stay and fork out more money for a driving test, but without any future work in the pipeline.

This made me feel a bit crap, to say the least, but perhaps there was a silver lining??

Whilst chatting away to my dad downstairs earlier in the day, I’d got a missed call from the temp agency. Was there some more work available? I gave them a call back when I got home and was informed about a full-time customer services job in Plymouth, which would last about 8 weeks, starting this coming Monday. It entailed answering customer complaints via letter and email. It sounded boring and piss-easy, absolutely perfect. The job location was right next to the train station; I could get off the train, cross the road and I’d be in work; that would reduce my commute significantly. I was getting more and more hopeful as the conversation went on – until she asked me about holiday. I wanted 3 days off still, or at least one and a half.

By this time it was quarter to five. She said she’d have to ask about the holiday and get someone to ring me back. Of course no-one rang me back… as expected. I’ll ring first thing tomorrow but I can’t help but feel that I’m fighting a losing battle here. Am I going to have to resort to not going to the gig? To getting my friend to go with somebody else? It looks that way. Otherwise every job they put me forward for will be turned down because of 2 or 3 measly days off, and even then, I can’t cancel my driving test.

It’s bad enough that I failed my test. I feel shit enough as it is, but the fact it’s having an effect on my employability, my future plans… well. That just makes me feel like an even bigger failure. But what can I do? Turn back time and do what my instinct was telling me to do behind all the nerves and turn left? Stop worrying about running over pedestrians and look at the big signs above me? Unfortunately that’s impossible.

After the phone call with the temping agency, I’m left feeling so fed up I think.. I just want to just go now. I want to leave now, because the longer I’m stuck here, jobless and continually failing my driving test, the more miserable and bitter and hopeless I become.

I jumble through each day, I go on the directgov site and look at the lack of jobs, I endlessly tidy my tiny, little box room and I try not to think about things. I read. I read and read and read, but it’s getting harder and harder as the weeks go by. I can’t immerse myself in novels every minute of the day and it isn’t until I experience moments like this that I realise I’m extremely unhappy.

I rarely go out (because there is nowhere to go out here) and most of my friends never have any money. I rarely see more than one person at a time because everyone I know works different shifts and days every week. I can’t drive so I have no freedom (I wouldn’t have any money for petrol even if I could). I cocoon myself in my room and act like it’s normal.

I’ve become so isolated not working and spending all my time cooped up in my little room I worry that I’m likely to turn insane. The only thing that keeps me going and consoles me is knowing that at some point in the near future I’ll be on the other side of the world. I’ll be reading a Kindle rather than paperbacks and wearing hot pants instead of knitwear … who am I kidding I wear hot pants all year round.

I realise this blog is very depressing, overly dramatic, sentimental and possibly a touch narcissistic. I have no idea why I’m publishing it really. I’d forgive you for having read this and come to the conclusion that I’m a massive twat. The only thing I can think of is that I’d like to be able to look back at this in however many months time and go, wow, that time in my life really sucked. It really, really sucked ass, and then hopefully reflect on how much better things have become and how lucky I am. That’s assuming they become better. I’d like to think they can’t get much worse (excusing a brain haemorrhage, sudden death in the family or ingrown toenail.)

All that’s left to do is to keep job hunting, keep active, stay focused and try to have as much fun from now until the time I leave – even if that means cancelling the one thing I was really looking forward to, in order to get some work *makes loud grumbling noise*

The opportunities I’ve sacrificed in order to do this travelling thing… it’s starting to concern me. It’ll all be worth it in the end though right?

Right.

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