Sausages

So, I tried another recruitment agency on Friday. What a contrast in the way I was treated compared to the one on Tuesday.
I was quite stressed when I got there – I hate using buses, especially after having had a car for so long.
I’m on google earth and the local transport website the day before I set out. I don’t know the stops and where I had to go involved yet another trek around an industrial site. Once I got there it started to rain and I had to walk up to the man in the box to find out how to even get inside fort knox like building.
The people there were welcoming at least. had a load of forms to fill out along with a test- though I couldn’t even see the point of them. I’m not sure who designed the test, there were some maths tests and some sort of IQ type tests – next number in sequence, that kind of thing, spot the difference and a puzzle about number of fence posts. WHy does my mind go blank? I could for the life of me subtract four from 61, and then had to add 120. My confidence was in my boots. Never mind the 85% pass rate. I felt so utterly useless. It was just a simple packing job after all for National Minimum Wage (£6:31).

Haven’t got a start date yet, again the job is a pig to get to, buses aren’t great, there are two rail stations, both need about a twenty minute walk to a secure site on an industrial park, hell I wish I still had my little car just to feel safe and dry. Not sure how many hours work there will be either, I hope its worth my while, its more than the dole, but it may not go beyond Christmas. I can’t make any long term commitments, like pay off that sod of an ex husband, to keep a roof over my head.

I’m going to go to the doctor as my mysterious foot condition had flared up – blisters and itching like you wouldn’t believe. According to the Internet it’s eczema. I just don’t want to be in pain or get an infection, whilst walking to the job or being stood up all day. There was mention of working in a clean environment. Least there’s no office clothes and feeling self conscious that I’m overweight. Coveralls, a hair net and over shoes being order of the day. I’ll have to sacrifice my nose stud – been in there since 1996 – but better that than starve.

Was I after factory jobs the job centre advisor said. Not especially. The alternative factory job at a sausage factory and working with raw meat didn’t appeal. Sure the dog would love me as I walk through the door, but I didn’t want the smell of death around me. I couldn’t have done shifts anyway due the goddam busses.

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