How To Find Alternative Employment
I suppose if some of the following comments about my employment history are very skewed in the extreme, then I really don't know how to put it.
I never knew it at the time, but I started out for the best employer in the world, the BBC.
I got the job; a six-month commitment.
I moved in the following day after being on the phone through the night while my girlfriend baked cookies.
It was turning up at 10am sharp. I was in the canteen by 10.01, getting patted on the back and handed a cup of tea by the first of many Americans. Because it was the BBC, there were Americans.
I had a job. I was an office manager for the BBC, I would be earning at least ten thousand pounds a year. I was earning just over one thousand a year with the caravan park I was working for as an office manager, so needless to say, I was somewhat riveted by my new job role.
My employment was for six months, which was fine with me, as I really had no plans to stay in the U.K., or at least not for that long anyway.
Thirteen months later, I moved on. Perhaps I had misjudged the job, I started to get blisters on my toes. I asked Bex if it was ok if I did some supermarket chores, to make some extra money, Bex gave me consent, because after all I was the office manager. Bex had six casual workers, I liked them, we all liked each other, frequent banter.
A couple of the casual staff were looking for a new job, so I put them in touch with the guy at the caravan park to help them out for the summer season. It wasn't the best of move really, I got no holiday pay, no redundancy, nothing. Bex didn't give me a cup of tea and a pat on the back either.
The caravan park guy said he wasn't sure if he could help out the casuals during the holiday season, they were a good crowd and he had hoped to keep them. I was really sorry to let them down, but I told them that he would probably be able to help out.
I had to start taking the train to work to save money. When I didn't tell Bex, she got very irate.
We had met at a party in a pub on my last day at work. I had not been looking for a relationship and I certainly was not the type of guy who wanted a girl I had to hold down.
When I saw Bex sitting alone at the bar and she bought me a drink, I went along with it and before I knew it, I was moving in with her. Getting patted on the back and handed a cup of tea by the first of many Americans.
I stayed there for three months, saving some money up and had got myself a job with a marine electronics manufacturer. I was there for two years, earning a fraction of what I had been on my previous job.
I had had enough. I knew that I could get another job in six months, but I knew what my motivation was.
I wanted more money than I was paid working for the BBC.
I contacted a temp agency and got a job working for a major supermarket chain. I was there for two years, I had a company car, full pension, sick pay, I had about three weeks a year off. I was the 'go to' man, I fixed the hot water, the kitchen exhaust, fixed the computers, extended the telephone system, I had phone lines installed in gardens and houses, I fixed the alarm system in medical buildings, fixed the alarm system in businesses, and I fixed the alarm system in factories.
But I was not in a very happy place. I had a knot in my throat when I got home at the end of a hard day's working. I knew the reason more than anyone. I wasn't content, I wanted the money, and I wanted to feel like the 'go to' man, the person who fixed everything that was broken.
For most of the time I had been there I wouldn't have got near a job anywhere else. I was a bit worried that when their original company IT staff left, I would be stuck there. But I did get a job with a similar company, working as an IT administrator.
I was in IT for about another year and in an act of defiance, I got a job as an analyst. This was the best job I ever had. I wore jeans and T-shirts, roller skates and had a large monitor strapped to my chest. I fired up a number of people who were feeling demotivated and explained to them that they were a special kind of person, they could fix anything, and they were as good as they were going to get.
I too got demotivated pretty quickly. They were too good for me. I was there for a couple of years, I was paid well, I had a great boss, but I wanted to do it all. I wanted the pay, I wanted the bonuses, I wanted to be the king. The king of the Universe.
I got a job. The pay was good, I had a good bonus, they wanted me to retire at 50, they had a pension scheme. The economy was booming and it felt good.
Conclusion.
I was the king.
I was the king.
I was the king.
This was really good. This was really good. I could see this could get to be very good.
I will read no further.
This story is amazing. This story is indeed amazing. The story is complete, and it is also amazing.
The author is a novelist and has also had a number of short fiction pieces published, as well as one poetry collection and a non-fiction book.