But unfortunately, nearly always necessary.
The time has come, my little friends, to talk of other things. Like how hard it is to find a bloody job if you have small children. No wait that’s not true – there are a number of part time jobs available in my local area. Cleaner, housekeeper, school crossing patrol, shop assistant and care worker roles regularly come up on my job search feeds.
I would do these jobs. I have put in applications, despite feeling, deep down, that it would actually be incredibly unethical for me to take any of them. I have a Master’s degree and a fair amount of professional experience as a researcher and information specialist. Another person without those supposed professional advantages should get them, while I focus on finding something that uses my skills. Turns out the hiring managers think that too as I never even get more than the standard “Thanks, but no thanks” rejection email, so at least I don’t have to face that particular ethical quandary.
Trouble is, outside of the metropolitan bubble, no one seems to have grasped that jobs can be worked flexibly. Calls to recruitment agencies or HR departments enquiring as to whether I could apply for an interesting-sounding role alongside a request for flexible working always seem to involve an extended period of silence while the recruiter processes the words I’ve said, and carefully calculates how to phrase “No” in such a way so as not to contravene employment legislation. Sometimes they don’t manage it and just say “No” – and as it’s already taken enough of my will-power to make the call in the first place, I rarely challenge them.
If im honest, I’m not sure I could necessarily face going back to what I used to do, or any organisation where the purpose was to line shareholder’s pockets rather than actually make the world slightly better. I’ve been thinking about potential career moves and think I’ve found the right fit – trouble is, the training will set me back tens of thousands and I have zero access to finance thanks to a well-hammered credit score. But right now, I need to be bringing in some dosh because we are barely surviving on my partner’s wage. And I don’t think I have enough friends to make investing in an aloe vera pyramid scheme worthwhile.
Today I bit the proverbial bullet and sent out some unsolicited emails to local organisations in my desired field, in the hope that someone might take pity on me and either hire me or take me on as a volunteer. Talk about nerve-wracking. I regretted sending them almost immediately, convinced that whoever received them would point and laugh at their screen, and then show their colleague who would also point and laugh, and together they would compose a mocking reply.
It’s only been two hours so we will see. But as I’m always being reminded in therapy – if you don’t ask, you don’t get. Call it a behavioural experiment.