UP for excitement…

Now the decorating in Marks flat is done… it’s time for new challenges, surely.

I am ever hopeful that one of my current job applications will find favour, blow the socks of a prospective employer and help land me a job. It really isn’t too much to ask.

Until that day comes, I’ll try to keep a positive outlook, and remain hopeful, as I don’t want to go under.

Meanwhile, I still have a fascination for charity shops and the possibility of achieving a haul even though I now have a new wardrobe of shirts, ready for the workplace. I still have an enthusiasm for car booting, why else would I set the alarm closk for such a ridiculous time as 5.10am? When the weather forecast is favourable and the punters are plentiful, it makes it all worth while.

I still am drinking too much tea and still staying up late into the evenings watching the Good Food channel, or on Facebook, on Teamtalk and on a few random job sites before hitting the sack somewhere between 12 and 1am. I’m still struggling to sleep, but have no problem staying in bed weekdays till about 8am.

A quick glance at my mobile phone, and in particular the bible texts that make their way to it in the mornings are always enlightening, and I still don’t tire of reading what God has to say to me. This message signifies hope, and reminds me there’s plenty to be done and God is to be honoured in all I do, for He’ll be back one day…

Isaiah 40 verse 3 reminds me:

“In the desert prepare
the way for the LORD ;
make straight in the wilderness
a highway for our God.

I’m up for a challenge, game for a laugh, and for being reminded that a bit hard work never hurt anyone. I may be in a ‘desert place’, or even ‘wilderness’ job-wise, but a couple of days casual work in a warehouse (recently) surrounded by boxes, cartons, and pallets has re-introduced me to work, and to my various upper body muscles, including biceps, triceps, deltoids, and of course pecs. It also served to remind me I am a willing worker, with a desire to do a good days work. Given the chance, I am also UP for some excitement.

If the movie poster for the film of the same name is to believed, so is Carl.

It’s all gone quiet over there…

Bang. The ball hits the back of the net and Lampard and team are celebrating. Around the ground Chelsea fans bellow out ‘it’s all gone quiet over there’ while pointing to the now quiet opposing fans. Sure, a momentary lapse, maybe a mistake by the Arsenal defence has led to another goal. Nevertheless the fans are quiet. Chelsea are set to win this one.

It’s all gone quiet over here too. Deathly quiet, and I can’t even hear the tills ring. Instead, I can hear staff talking and price guns bleeping. Styling the nation? Not today.

If we were hoping for customers, we should have got on our knees to pray this morning. Instead we stand, we walk the department, we check the stock, adjust the price tags, adjust ourselves, sweep the floor and replenish stock. The professional touch!

When I eventually did have a potential customer within sight, all went pear shaped. My gentle offer to help was rebuffed with the words ‘rather than help myself you mean?”. God bless even stroppy customers. To add to my excitement today, my future working hours have been cut. working 4 or 5 days a week looks (again) like a thing of the past, as staff are returning to work after having babies. Working 2 days a week appears to be my lot at the moment, so, what I need is a miracle, and now would be good.

Its’ not just quiet over here in Bagland, other departments are quiet. Even at home, and according to my incoming emails, it would appear recruitment agents (er consultants) are either asleep, walking the streets or twidling their thumbs till another frustrated candidate phones in chasing them. The jobs are few and far between and there are only a few that even get my attention. Does working in Abu Dhabi or Spain appeal. Mmm, Abu Dhabi? No, even though the money is appealing. Spain? Well let’s think about it… No.

Right… How about becoming a minor celebrity, a bus driver,  a talkshow host, so I can get to appear on Matthew Wright show… or maybe become an MP or something equally worthy… At least i’ll get my expenses paid!

The store was almost deserted, and couldn’t even see any suspicious looking customers to report to security. If they’ve got any sense security staff would have switched channels on their store monitors and tuned into something more interesting like Bargain Hunt.

Time for a tea break I think – a long one.

Now what? (Sept 2007)

The initial excitement surrounding my exit from work waned, ever so slightly after the first month, but I had no regrets, In an effort to keep positive I kept reminding myself that someone of my standing, experience and skills should be able to persuade those in the industry I was too good  an opportunity to pass up… Work would come, I just needed to get active and push doors.

If I could land a job straightaway – or within a few months, I (or rather we) could bank the money and spend it as and when. Maybe we could then treat ourselves to a holiday or upgrading our car. Well, that was the plan…

Feb 2009
Er, yes indeed. That was the plan…

Busing it – part 1

Due to limited funds, there was no way I could afford to take our car into BigTown, let alone pay for parking. So, I had two options, walk or bus it. The bus won.

The last time, I had been anywhere near a bus, must have been when visiting Amberley Working Museum in West Sussex, before Christmas. (The buses weren’t actually working, which itself is rather ironic ). Prior to this it must have been May 2000, on the occasion of Paul’s 40th Birthday, when he (a bus fan) hired a Party bus to take us to London’s South Bank, for a spin on the Millennium Wheel.

It also happened to be FA Cup Final day, the last to be played at the old Wembley Stadium, (which, sadly, was not part on our itinerary) and my team were in contention against Aston Villa. Thankfully, Chelsea went on to secure their second FA Cup in three years courtesy of a goal from Roberto Di Matteo. But I digress.

On Monday this week, with my virgin ‘Oyster’ card in hand, I boarded the suggested bus at the suggested bus stop. This would be my first proper bus ride in years, and other than the bus driver, the only voice I heard came from the bus itself, which announced in a digitised but vaguely friendly voice our route number and our destination, and as we progressed, every stop.

In under fifteen minutes we had reached journeys end, suffered no traffic hold ups, and the driver for his own good reason, had seen fit to drive warp speed where possible, adding to my excitement. I began to anticipate the return journey in five hours time.