Finding somewhere to live or getting a job?
Bearing in mind that a finite timescale is involved before I leave my current job to go home, and that jobhunting isn’t a particularly fruitful activity at the best of times especially in the current climate, it seemed prudent to start working to resolve both challenges.
It’s always a bit of a dilemma, and one that I’ve found myself in before; not an enjoyable experience by any means – I was a teary stressed-out mess for a couple of months. But the fact is you come through these things, you find a way to achieve both. Even if it’s not exactly what you were looking for.
So in the midst of trying to locate jobs that won’t care about my stammer or frequent speech loss (not an easy task, I assure you), I’ve trying to find a place for us to live too.
Pickings are slim, and knowing from the exhausing trawl from home to home that depicts itself as heaven in an advert but presents itself as nothing more than an absolute hellhole, I cannot wait to see the surprises we’ve got in store this time around.
Seriously, I wouldn’t make my worst enemy live in half of those places; I can’t imagine what on earth makes letting agents believe that anyone would willing part with hard-earned money to stagnate between four thickly laquered walls and a heavily soiled carpet. Not nice.
So anyway, without any idea how much we can afford for rent, I’ve just had to pluck a reasonable figure out of thin air and hope for the best. Spending yesterday lunchtime ringing around estate agents to book appointments for the coming weekend was a frenzied affair, slowed only by extremely apologetic receptionists asking me to repeat the telephone number and becoming bemused when I suggested that perhaps it would be more fruitful for them to read back what they had already written down so we might fill in the gaps rather than create further confusion.
Dictating with a stammer over the phone isn’t the best method of communication, so thoughtfully one of them suggested I just sent her an email to verify the number she’d thought I had given her (but couldn’t be sure). It was refreshing to find how accommodating people could be. Although, understandably they had a lot to gain financially from being nice – the next challenge is in determining where that finance will be coming from.
In spite of the jobs I have had, the skills I’ve acquired over the years, I think (at least in the short term) that just swallowing any remaining pride and taking a job in a kitchen or something would do. Money is money at the end of the day; if it pays the bills it really doesn’t matter how you’ve earnt it.
I’ve talked through the possibility of trying to get my old college job back at Pizza Hut, to which there’s been fervent cries of “Oh, don’t do that! You can do so much better“. Well, maybe – but I’m getting to the point where I don’t really care as long as I know that I’ll be able to afford to pay rent on a place.
I figure that that’s the most important thing. And fingers crossed, it’ll only be a short-term situation until something (hopefully) better comes along. At least we’d be able to make it through Christmas. That’s my biggest priority right now, to not let anybody down.
Brings a whole new meaning to the words “living for the moment“, although probably more accurately it’s a case of “accepting that you’re living in the moment” because there’s no other choice.
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