Scrolling
through Twitter I saw a glimmer of hope of finding my perfect job.
It was
a few days ago I saw a vacancy at a museum I’d kill to work for, an
advertisement for an admin role associated with co-ordinating volunteers. All
things I can actually do listed on the job description, I was ridiculously
excited. I discussed it with everyone, all telling me to go for it! I
almost did.
The one
thing that stops most people in achieving their dreams is usually money. The
job was £16000 pro rata but with only 18.5 contracted hours, it worked out as
almost a £300 pay cut. Yet again I was deflated, disappointed, dejected. All
the ‘d’ words.
My Mom
tried to talk me into going for it anyway and getting another job on the side.
She doesn’t really know how terrifying that thought is to me. Not one interview
but two when it’s hard enough to get one job, she thinks I can get a
second. No. I just couldn’t believe I got so near but ended up so far away
again.
I know
I’d like to find a job that I’m happy with and that the money shouldn’t matter
but being depressed for so long I became accustomed to having money to
entertain myself when things get a little tough. Little things like filling the
gas tank and driving for miles and going to buy plants for my garden, these
extra things on top
of buying food and paying bills that I wouldn’t be able to
do if I were to earn considerably less.
I’m
lost again.
Leave a Reply