Twelve months (and one week) later…

When I decided to put in for Voluntary Redundancy, I was a tad – how should one say – miserable, and not really in the right frame of mind.

It actually started over 18 months ago when I randomly asked why my figures would be. Then I was suddenly motivated (I’ll skip the details) to fill in the form, write some narrative, sign and submit.

No-one, least of all me, thought I would get it. But I did. Blimey!

That was the point I thought I’d better come up with a plan. Take the money, use it as a future deposit on a future abode. Get a new job within three months, which would pay the mortgage. Get the girl. Ride off into the sunset.

I took the money, anyway.

I wasn’t so bothered for the first few months, enjoying the time to myself for once but then it started to drag. And drag.

The whole job-hunting, applications and interviews process weren’t designed to keep me in a good mood either. The first one I had was a few days after I’d left. I knew three of the interview panel, one of whom didn’t turn up and the other was 20 minutes late. Not really the sort of outfit you felt you’d want to work for after that.

Then there’s the organisation that interviewed me for one role and gave it to someone who had no experience of what they’d asked me at interview (something which happened to someone else I know recently). Makes a mockery of the whole process.

Not that I’m perfect. One role I went for I came to the interview armed with a plan of how to raise their profile, engage with politicians, showcase their charitable work, etc. when all they really wanted was someone to write a bit and update their web site. I completely misjudged that one. I’d tell you who they are but that might raise their profile.

I got phone calls and emails from recruiters who never followed up or got in touch afterwards. Fortunately there are a couple of good ones out there, and I’m with one now, through whom (and again, I’ll skip the details) I have found temporary employment.

I’m working in Sheffield. Doing pretty much the same job I did before, but in South Yorkshire. With two hours additional travel each day and for slightly less money. My last day of working was 2 October 2016, my first day working again was 2 October 2017.

I think the universe is teaching me a lesson.

Still, it all helps to keep the wolf from the door (assuming the wolf has a keyfob to get in to the block) and it’s nice to be up, out and working again, even if that does mean getting the 0740 train out every morning. It also means I’m too tired when I get home to look at the laptop and blog, so apologies in advance for the gaps in transmissions over the next two (at least) months.

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