employment

I’m an incoherent tangle when it comes to my employment status.  Today has been slower than usual, but not worryingly so because I’m already confident in this month’s invoices and I’m reasonably content with the way things are going.  Added to this, in the morning I planned a nerve-jangling road-trip for my brief, post-Christmas American adventure; the weather is currently pleasant: dazzlingly bright, sharp and cold; I like this weather; there’s a slither of hope on the female front; my flat and its location are agreeable; I can wander down to the Bay easily enough, take a good coffee and sit outside with a book.  (Sitting outside with a hot coffee is so much more gratifying when it’s chilly, but not bitter, and you’re dressed appropriately).

I’d walked past council and government buildings and looked in through the windows at banks of suits staring at a men talking, giving presentations, referring to screens and a whiteboard.  I felt removed from that environment now, and it pleased me.  If I were offered roughly ten grand more than I earn now (a figure I’m still unsure of and have no inclination to calculate) for a so-so office job, a job which would entail having a proper boss and proper hours and ironing, and in a way less stress, but in a way more pressure – would I take it?

No, I wouldn’t, I thought, guiltlessly turning my attention back to The Slap and tightening a right-hand grip on the now lukewarm mug.  I could never have this, which is worth a lot.  Perhaps I wasn’t designed to be professionally social, to work in a team, to have close colleagues or staff under me.  Perhaps this is exactly right.  Part of me likes to consider myself a kind of dreaming nomad (in the same way many people enjoy considering themselves outsiders), but one who can still function in a business arena, one who can get by fine.  Unspectacularly, but fine.   Cardiff often seems built on unspectacular fineness: masses of people who do nondescript public sector jobs they don’t care for and barely speak of, few of whom are safe from cuts.

*

Despite today’s contentment my CV still lives out in the internet and I occasionally receive calls from recruitment agencies.  On returning to the flat I picked up a voicemail from an agency about a job.  Today, merely because today I feel good my status and life, I didn’t return the call.  Tomorrow the weather might turn grey and rain and be unpleasantly freezing, clients might really piss me off, other things might happen which I’ll blow out of proportion and I might question whether I really am that secure and content.  Because I’m a changeable soul, tomorrow I might return the call.

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