Work Is Called Work Because It Is Hard

Hello There You,

So as I continued my working day as normal on Thursday of last week, all in the knowledge that my dear Mr. Warehouse was out at work in his new role within a brewery, I revelled in the possibility that we could soon be living a life better than we were with more holidays, a car for me and less money worries than we needed. However as I finished off the final bit of security clearance I had been working on the phone rang. I answered to a voice that was tearful and trembling. It was my boyfriend. I knew what had happened even before I asked and yet I still allowed myself to ask what was wrong. 

"I quit my job" a tear-cracking voice croaked from the other end of the line. As I went to offer word of support I questioned what I would even say. Anger, disappointment and upset pulsating through my body I needed to put all them emotions and more aside for Mr. Warehouse needed my support right now and not my criticism. I tried to offer some empathetic words of advice and wisdom in a moment of utter despair. I knew nothing would go in as I had been in that position myself, many a time before. But what worried me the most is that I always found a way to bounce back from a bad situation and turn it into an advantage by looking and successfully gaining employment very quickly. I just hoped that it would rub off onto my other half and that I wouldn't have to look into alternative living arrangements for him also. 

Not that of course I would ever have wanted to but reluctantly, I gave Mr. Warehouse the ultimatum that he had before I fly out to Ireland to look after my Aunt and Uncles Country Farmhouse on Friday morning, he had to find a job and ideally be already working by the Thursday evening. As harsh as it sounds - He had a week. I mean I would have given him two if it was not for me going away but his reckless and quite frankly rather selfish decision was an added and unnecessary stress on our relationship, not to mention the impact it has had on our wallets. I still stand by my "Ultimatum" that it was not a harsh one, for I cannot, and will not, struggle for someone who does not consider others situations and circumstances before themselves. Desperate, I tried to hear my beloved boyfriend's points of the job being strenuous, straining on muscles and stifling in the heat of a stuffy warehouse with little or no wind to clear the stale air, but a little part of me knew that this was simply a shock to the system. Rightly or wrongly, probably more so the latter, in recent years Mr. Warehouse was seldom breaking into a sweat on where he used to work with me and my colleagues. The fact that he was now loading and unloading pallets full with crates of beer, ales and other bottles of alcohol was hard and laborious in comparison to his previous roles. In a way I felt sorry for him, but in others I wished he would have stuck it out in a bid to see if it gets better and what the alternative shift may hold. But alas my intrinsic advice falls onto deaf ears again.

For the rest of the day I seemed to mope. Not by choice or conscience doing, just simply bumbling through the rest of the day wondering how it would be possible to support our little household on the extremely modest wage I was earning. Bills, Rent and the likes were nearly nine-hundred-pounds, and with Mr. Warehouse's outgoings and bills on top it made my entire wage packet disappear before you could even say 'Jobseekers Allowance'. Not only would I loose absolutely every last piece of my already mediocre social life, I would also miss out on vital driving lessons and learning potential therefore knocking my test back even further than needed. I wouldn't be able to visit Miss Tweedle-Dumb in her new job and life in the Berkshire countryside west of London. I'd have to stop all my plans for holidays to European Christmas Markets and spontaneous weekends away. All in all I would be sacrificing my evenings, potentially working two jobs, just to support myself and Mr. Warehouse as well as the dog who also needs feeding. 

After talking with Mr. Warehouse his options and explaining to him that whilst I will always try my up most to support him in every which way he needed me and wanted me to, both financially and emotionally I would try and put my feelings of anger and hurt aside to cater for him and his needs first. Although this is of course very hard when you feel wronged in a way that you have offered an olive branch in good faith it should never have to be taken and then it is taken as an easy option out of a mildly bad situation. I would have hoped, knowing how much he disliked the job from the outset, that Mr. Warehouse would have at least tried to stick it out for a little longer, continuing in the job search whilst spending his afternoons humping and lumping Amstel crates around. 

Nevertheless I cannot complain too much for after a productive Friday afternoon calling round employment agencies, emailing CV's and a few cheeky hours on the Xbox whilst I was still at work, Mr. Warehouse has found himself a job. Although whilst this is temporary, with the potential of it and other jobs coming up more permanent and with better pay the future is looking optimistic in comparison to last week, but until I feel my shoulders relax again as a result of the added income, I will continue to feel the financial burden of keeping us all from drowning. 

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Confessions of a Lustful Job Hunter!

Bloggers Note: I have recently decided to start a thing going whereby if you yourself have a 'Trial or Tribulation' that I can help with then feel free to drop me a free and fully confidential message by popping it on a mini form in the right-hand sidebar or email me at: Abbbey4@gmail.com :) xx

Morning All, 

And so my first week of unemployment has melted away before I even have a chance to understand fully what I am actually going to do with myself. Grateful for the understanding nature of friends and some family this week I have been well supported with my job search. Although I thought that after loosing my job would be the worst thing in the history of the universe I have actually been surprised with the amount of feedback and the successfulness in finding work if you want it. 

Following a telephone interview with a well-know camera manufacturer I bagged a 'real' interview at their Bedford HQ on Wednesday morning. Running slightly behind schedule I made it in time to meet the ladies who walked me through my interview and also the women whom I chatted on the phone to as well. The role itself was pretty simplistic and I wasn't wholly thrilled by the fact that it would only be until the end of this year covering maternity leave, but with a two-thousand-pound bonus at the end of the contract and the possibility of being taken on permanently, I didn't really have ground to complain. Thus don't start asking me for a discount on lenses and filming equipment just yet as I unfortunately didn't make the cut for the second stage interviews and so the ideal of working within a company that made the selfie that much easier was dashed. 

Wednesday also held for me much more good news as after I had finished my hour-long interview with my first potential employer I attended another interview at a Fire Safety establishment in a industrial park just outside the town centre. Arriving to the premises after getting slightly lost I was ready to shine. And that I did. After another hour-long interview which felt more like a lengthy and fun chat about credit control I was let loose back onto the streets of Bedford to hunt down that all elusive job with a healthy salary and good atmosphere to match. Luckily for me the gentleman that interviewed me on Wednesday at the Fire Safety place wants me back along with another lady to go head to head in the second stage interviews this Thursday. Wish me luck!

I wasn't finished at just two interviews Wednesday as I had to attend a meeting at the local hell hole - The Job Centre. walking into the meeting I was ushered over to what looks like a pimped up 18th century school class room with chairs that had easels attached for writing down important stuff. As this wasn't the first time I signed on I wasn't expecting what happened, which was essentially a group lecture on job searching and about claiming off the state. Brilliant! As if every one of us in the room needed another punch in the stomach to wind us of all self-worth and motivation. Thanks coalition government!

Still not having eaten I headed to the train station and boarded a train to St. Albans, a city in which I hold much favour. It was one of the first places I had come as a young adult on a shopping trip with Miss Tweedle-Dumb and subsequently visited with Mr. Workaholic but obviously not for anything other than seeing work colleagues and finding out which one of them had recently been struck off work for dealing in cocaine. Nevertheless, exhausted as I was I multi-tasked by walking swiftly to the agency office in the town centre whilst conducting another telephone interview with another agency based back home in Luton. I know right, how skilled I am!

Thursday was much the same as Tuesday whereby I used the time I would usually be at work slaving over spreadsheets and paperwork scouring the web for the next best positions in my area. Following my Job Centre lecture I learnt that there was truth in what I had always told people and that the majority of jobs are now posted online. In fact the figures we were given as in-between-jobbers was that over seventy percent of jobs are now never even posted on the net, employers preferring to source potential candidates themselves or in my instance just add the workload to the employees already busting their ball-sacks working as hard as they can. Companies would favour 'Twitter' rather than going through and agency or website and paying fees for such services that they could easily get for nothing via social media. 

The week was rounded off with another interview with a flooring company in which they loved me so much they invited me back today for a tour of the office space and warehouse as well as to meet the team. A lovely bunch and I must have done something right being the first person that they saw at 10:30am on a Friday morning and wanting me back in their offices Monday afternoon. The vibe I get is that they are eager for me to join as am I although I wonder if maybe I can hold out on giving them a definitive answer by the end of the week as I would like to see where the rest of my interviews this week get to. I have five lined up for the days ahead. That, coupled with the eight I had last week means that in every sense on the phrase I am getting their. I would say slowly but surely but everything had sped along so fast this week I haven't even had a chance to think about being out of work. 

It wasn't all hard work though as Wednesday evening was spent with my favourite girls; Miss Tweedle-Dee, Miss Tweedle-Dumb and Miss Stuu. Yet again our conversation turned round to the topic of sex, boys and relationships. Most topics of conversation were covered I feel, making us more aware that yes, every female in the land has experienced the compression of air in the Southern Hemisphere whilst being in the presence of a naked man. Yes, the aptly named 'Fanny Fart'. Gross as it may sound these are things that ladies speak of. In fact the conversation didn't stop their as talk soon turned to the ''apparently'' best bit about pleasure. The Orgasm. Now I myself am able to come and whatever is happening down their feels amazing when done right but I don't think I have ever experienced 'The Big O'! I mean what is it? Where does it come from? And most importantly how the hell can I get one?! You see I am not one for self-pleasure or masturbation as such and despite my abundance of toys I am still unable to get myself off. Its not that I don't know what I like because I do, god knows I tell the men that have come in and out (Don't laugh) of my my life what I like and don't like but I am just not able to do it myself. Maybe its the fact that I know what is coming (Naughty) or whether I prefer someone else's touch even if it isn't quite hitting the right spot. 

I am a difficult one I feel; easy to please when you know how to but somewhat unrelenting in my appetite lately. I feel sorry for Mr. Cheese sometimes for having to put up with my thirst for bedroom exercise. Sex is something that for me makes all my problems go away. Not to say that I am an addict or anything but that is my go to when I feel lonely or stressed or sad or loving or angry, anything. I'll give you an example. Last weekend I saw Mr. Cheese himself and after a lovely meal we settled in front of the box for a bit before bed. Getting up from the couch I whispered in my boyfriend's ear seductively to come meet me in the bedroom in five minutes. After leaving a salivating other-half on the sofa to stew I flung my clothes on the floor and dressed myself in nothing more than a football shirt and suspender stockings. Laying myself bare on the bed I lit some candles and set the mood for a night of lustful intentions. Entering the boudoir I hoped for the passion to be ignited. Unfortunately after what felt like an eternity of teasingly fantastic foreplay and being thoroughly ready for some action I was informed that despite my effort, enthusiasm, suspenders, stockings, football shirt and lack of a bra the Boyfriend just wasn't interested. Shocked and stunned by what I was hearing the lights went on, teeth were brushed and I was forced to accept that I wouldn't be getting laid. Feeling deflated, unattractive, anti-sexy and questioning everything about us I fell asleep. The excuse that Mr. Cheese was tired were justifiable but nevertheless nearly every man on the planet has that as a fantasy and by his own admission had said it was one of his quoting that I should do it when his flat mates were out so as not to make too much noise. 

But on the other end of the spectrum I seriously worry about my being and whether I am normal. Is it normal for a women to have such a high sex drive? I don't know? It has always been a happy medium of sex-initiation's prior to Mr. Cheese but I feel now sometimes that he only obliges to my panders because he wants to appease me rather than him also wanting to partake. I am usually quite a relaxed person generally but lately I have been feeling more tense and stressed almost on a daily basis. The last time I felt like this I was with Mr. Workaholic and it was just a simple case of getting naked for him and that was it I would be pounded within an inch of my life only to then fall asleep blissfully unaware of the train-wreck it would eventually end in. Sadly with a Boyfriend in London it seems my stresses shall have to wait. It is at time like these where I feel my back tighten and my body ache a little that I know I need a really good seeing too, someone to come and ruin me. Don't get me wrong I love when its slow and rhythmic with an intense build up knowing that I will hit peak soon although sadly it ends with the man finishing too early. But Hey I can't blame him it does blow your mind when it is at the same pace, slow and steady. I think maybe I need to experiment more with myself. 

So off I hop to dust off my rabbits and get my rocks off - Just in time for Easter!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx

Laid Off and Fighting Back!

Bloggers Note: I have recently decided to start a thing going whereby if you yourself have a 'Trial or Tribulation' that I can help with then feel free to drop me a free and fully confidential message by popping it on a mini form in the right-hand sidebar or email me at: Abbbey4@gmail.com :) xx

Heyy Everyone, 

So after the last couple of weeks being an emotional roller coaster and with disagreements surrounding my blogg content regarding my relationship with my mother and generally my family values life has not got much better. Yet again I am back at square uno and in the same situation I find myself all the damn time. I am, yet again, unemployed. 

This happened on Friday and was a culmination of many weeks slaving through overtime including ridiculously early mornings and tiring late evenings at work putting in the hours just to try and attempt to make a difference in my work load which was all in vain as when your part of what is meant to be a four or five person team running on two maybe three people you can imagine the stress and strain it caused. And so after ten-weeks in the new job role as Credit Control Administrator I was formerly considered unable to cope with the amount of pressure put on me as a team member and cleared my desk swiftly saying goodbye to work colleagues that I had come to love and admire. Safe to say I shall miss working there a little bit however there are some things (and some people) that I shall not miss. 

All in all whilst I sit here by my window in my little flat I am panicking. I have less than enough money in my bank account, I have bills coming out my arse left, right and centre and to top it all off the rent is due in less that three weeks. I am slowly slipping into my overdraft and have very little food in my kitchen to sustain me for much longer. I have no savings and spent all my driving lesson money on moving into my new abode of which not a penny of it has been put back. I think I am starting to get very, very concerned about my life now and how I shall manage on what a menial allowance the government in the UK pays people with no jobs. 

However I do not plan on investing in tracksuit bottoms just yet as I have had a rather proactive Monday whereby I have sought advice from the CAB (Citizens Advice Bureau) as well as the local council and have obtained a stack of paperwork to fill in and return first thing tomorrow morning. On Friday evening I was able to bag myself a telephone interview with a large company based and conducted myself so well this morning over the phone that they have offered me a second interview at their offices just outside Bedford. I have also been put through for a handful of other positions ranging from admin and Secretary work right down to good old customer service. I would love to go back to doing credit control and have stipulated that to the agencies in the town; But at this very moment I cannot be choosy as to where my next pay-cheque comes from. 

Other than that life has not been easy over the past few days although that wonderful Mr. Cheese of mine has been able to make life a little more bearable with his company. I thought that when it comes down to situations like this that I am quite an optimistic person, always seeing the silver lining in things and making the best out of a situation. But Mr. Cheese on the other hand brings a whole new meaning to looking up - No pun intended! Naughty! After chatting to him on Friday night, I dreaded even telling him thinking that he would no longer want to be my boyfriend because of my change in circumstance. I thought to myself as I rang his number for the fifth time that evening forcing myself not to hang up for lack of words, that somehow it would be much easier to just tell him that I no longer wanted to be with him any more. Yes. I know it sounds stupid because I'm more crazy about him than I am about Starbucks (and I fucking love Starbucks) but somewhere in my head it equates that I wouldn't want to date someone unemployed, so why would anyone want to date me with no job. I know. Silly really! Mr. Cheese's optimism shone through when he mentioned that the weekend is the weekend and that logically speaking I'm not classed as unemployed until Monday morning, which is a nice way to look at it, but it didn't stop my stomach from flipping the entire weekend knowing that bills still have to be paid and rent will become due soon. 

Life for the young people of Britain is hard. I'm not going to lie I hate being here again. Unemployed, Unwanted and Undervalued. It seems that the culture nower days is simply that employees, in particularly those under thirty are just too disposable. Even when you get a job its hard as employers know that if you don't want it that there are hundreds of people lined up behind you that are waiting for you to slip up. The benefits system in England is something I believe is a good thing and is there for people in desperate times to make ends meat and pay for things to help the survive. It is something manageable, not livable. Social security is not something I want to be on and I would like to think that the majority of people I plan to see at the Job Centre over the next week will be in the same boat as me. But all too often you see the iconic characters including velour track-suited mom's pushing a pram with a screaming child whilst two other tag along behind, the alcoholics and drug abusers whom with the money the government has just given them will go straight towards the tills of the nearest seven-eleven and the thugs that hang around in groups only to intimidate and scare those in society that should be respected and honoured. Yes. It is these people that I loath as I am sure many of you do. Why? Because unlike myself and other hard working individuals who have found themselves out of work, these people have no intention of getting a job instead claiming that they are unable to work due to health reasons, child care or some other phantom excuse. 

The Job Centre itself is about as much help as a chocolate teapot. Whilst the job-seekers loitering around the entrances of the lurid green institutes and you take your first steps inside what is meant to be a place of helpful information and advice you feel every little shred of joy you had left in your sole sucked out, turning you as grey and defeated as the cigarette ash coating the pavements outside. As studies have already proven the Job Centre is a failure in its own right. Jobs are rarely updated when filled, staff are unhelpful and the processes are complicated and confusing even for the best of people. Their job is to find you a job but seldom does that ever happened. Usually you are pointed in the direction of a website or machine that you can look at vacancies in the local area and towards information you could have picked up using Google. 

Whilst I have gone off on a slight tangent I do hope that with all this in mind I shall not be out of work for very long. Actually scratch that. You know what I know I wont be out of work for very long. I can do this. I can beat this and make something better for myself that sitting on the sofa eating CoCo Pops at 9am watching Jeremy Kyle and his guests battle it out for a DNA test. Seriously though! No. I plan to get up and fight this with everything I've got. I will make this better and have a job where I am appreciated and rewarded for my hard work. Fuck you life! I'm biting back - Rawr!

'Til next time, Love A.Lou xx