No Sleep Till… | Blog
Today i woke up at 7am. Now, usually i just roll over and go back to sleep, it takes a few minutes but i always drop back off into a state or uncaring sleep.
Just as i started to type that first line my nephew downstairs started to play his music, and when he is the only one downstairs he plays it loud and it always tends to be music i don’t like and i can’t concentrate when it’s playing.
Now Spinnin’: Beastie Boys – Paul Boutique.
So i do that, i just hope that the Beastie Boys can flood out his music.
I woke up at 7am and couldn’t get back to sleep, my mind keep wondering back to my finances which right now are pretty fucking slim. I’m at that point where i’m starting to feel desperate. And each day is a slow/boring trek through job websites and reading rejection letters from previous job applications. The usual response is;
“I’m sorry but there are others with more experience also applying for this position, so your application will not be taken any further.“
I found myself checking out a security job, a job i fucking hate with every fibre of my being, i hate security. But it’s the only job i have any experience in. I kinda feels like once you have a job, what ever that job might be, that is what you’re going to be doing for the rest of your life because it’s the only “Experience” you will ever have. You will die doing this job. Or this job will be the death of you, either way.
The only other choice is to go back to school and learn something, which costs money, which i don’t have, kinda feels like catch-22. It would be funny if i wasn’t so important.
I don’t want a career, i feel like by saying that, you are stuck in that industry the rest of your life, i don’t want a career i want a job. And then of course what you have to deal with is that most of the jobs that i can apply for, only offer minimum wage. I live in London, i don’t want to have to move out of London, but on minimum wage you can’t really live in London, that’s why we have something called a living wage, it allows people to live and work in London. But then you have to deal with the other effect of modern work management, the like ‘it or leave’ policies they all seem to subscribe to, and the 48 to 60 hour work weeks. Take it or leave it.
Why do these companies think it’s okay to not only pay a shit wage but force their work force to work up to 60 hours a week. To which if you make a complaint about, they treat you like you have the plague or leprosy. You’re a disease and you need to be cut loose, unless you take their vaccine and fall in line, accept the shit wage and the long hours. I always had the feeling their reasoning was;
“But wait a sec, you want more money, right? Then work more hours and you’ll have more money, you see, easy.”
They seem to think that you should put your life on hold, and i mean literally on hold, you no longer have a life, well, not a life as you know it, you’re are, for all intents and purposes, a drone, a pack animal, a work horse, your life, as it has been is over, your biological and technological distinctiveness belong to them now! You will have no life outside of your work from this day forward, and if you try to tell them that, all you get in response is a confused look, like the prospect of you having a life outside of work is unusual or foreign. A concept they hadn’t considered before;
“But we thought this was it, all you had. We did kind of wonder what you were doing with all that money we were so graciously giving you for your much appreciated work.”
It makes me wonder. It’s almost like they feed you just enough to keep you alive, but not enough so that you can leave and survive for very long without them.
I worked for a security company called Interr (Yes, two R’s. Spelling was a big problem for them) Security, an employer i wouldn’t wish on anyone, because i genuinely thought they didn’t give a shit about their guards. I was earning £7.50 an hour, and they wanted me to work six days a week, Tuesday through to Sunday, only having Mondays off. I did this for a month before i started get aggravated and told them that i wasn’t going to work six days any longer. My first end of year review (incidentally, my first and only yearly review in the three years i worked with them) which, according to the girl in HR, was outstanding and was to be sent “Upstairs” to be considered for a my pay review. Now i actually wonder if she laughed once i had left the office, crying tears of glittering spender while crying out loud “Pay review” before collapsing to the floor in hysterical laughter in a puddle of you own tears. Needless to say that pay review never happened. And after months of trying to find out what had happened in that “Pay review”, i was told that while i’m at that site, i’ll not receive a pay increase. It was here that i decided that i wasn’t going to do anymore paper work, i mean, why do the fucking work if you’re not getting paid for it. They expected me to put my life on hold for them, to work in the city, and a posh, if not the poshest, part of the city, for 7.50 an hour. To deal with fucking assholes all day long for 7.50 an hour. These people are fucking delusional. And i’ll bet that not one person in that office, all of which it seemed had a job with the word manager in the title, was getting paid less then 25k a year. While the guards, the ones actually making the money for the company, had to struggle on with something like 17k a year. Unless of course you worked 10-12 hours a day, 7 days a weeks. Because then you might pitch a little above 18k.
And these people have the balls to say that we had to do everything they say because that is what they pay us for. No, you don’t pay us, you exploited us. And i left you because of that. I hated having to watch my wallet on pay day. If i went out for drink on a Saturday night, i might not have enough money to get me through the rest of the month. And as for the pension scheme, which we didn’t have until the government made it mandatory, where they pay something, too. Yeah, they paid the lowest amount they could, 1%. So, 1% of my wage and they pay another 1%. What is 1% of 17k? It’s £170, times two £340 a year in a pension. Now you might be thinking, “At least it’s something” right? The government say that you should have something like 100k when you retire, to live comfortably. So, do the math, 340 quid a month. 100,000 quid on retirement, how long would it take. How many times does 340 go into 100,000. It would take 294.1 years. And given that i could barely get through a month with a tenner in my pocket, how am i going to reach 100k in the time i have left, which at this stage is near 32 years, i’d need to put away £3,215 a year. Or £260 a month, which is doable, right. Sure it is, with a decent wage, like a living wage.
Okay, now you’ve figured out that i’m in my mid to late 30’s. Why haven’t i had a pension before now? The honest answer is, i don’t know, i guess i have just never earned enough to have anything left over. Which also means that on top of no pension i have no savings. My bank account reads, right now (as of writing this) £60.
I need a job and i can’t stress how fucking bad i need one. But if i end up back in security, i’m liable to kill myself because it’ll feel like defeat, that this is all i’m good for and i can’t have that.