The nights draw in

In the end, The Screw Work, Let's Play eSchool and/or Programme that I wrote about last time didn't happen for me. We could probably see that was how it would be at the end of the post -- I wasn't suitable for the eSchool, and couldn't afford the bigger Programme.

I can't deny I'm disappointed, but the guys involved were -- and are -- so incredibly nice and helpful. It wasn't their fault I don't have a clear enough idea of what I want to do to join in the SWLP eSchool, and I felt they were genuinely sorry they couldn't help to make the programme more attainable for me. I wonder if I'm even the target market -- perhaps it is aimed more at older, successful people who have had enough of the corporate life and want to be their own boss. Rather than myself, while not exactly counting as a "young person" any more, but far from successful in any of my chosen careers to date. And still searching.

Speaking of searching, my recent meeting with the boss was surprisingly productive, and I think I may have previously underestimated her. It's silly, because obviously she has been running and growing a business for the last however-many years, even if the company does sometimes seem to be balancing on a knife edge.

Completely aside from anything to do with the business itself, I get the impression that she has actually listened to my thoughts and feelings in previous meetings, as well as things I have said unofficially -- and combined this with her own perceptions of me, and my preferred methods of work. The outcome is that I appear to be offered a job that has been almost tailored to me -- sure, it's not my dream job, but nothing is going to be until I work out what that is. Just the same, if I have to stay in the company, then it's not a bad start to be in a job with more of a focus on social media, that takes me out of telemarketing, and gives me the time to be creative.

I was asked if it was a job I would apply for if I saw it advertised elsewhere. That's a difficult question, because I have seen recently quite how negative things can turn if an employer finds out you are looking elsewhere -- and the jobs I do apply for elsewhere never lead to anything. As I say, it's a start -- but it's getting to that start right now that seems a struggle, since first we have to recruit more members for the sales team, then have them all settled and trained and performing, before I can leave.

Outside of work and wondering what the hell I'm doing generally... there's not a whole heap to report. I've been meaning to get back into the rock climbing -- I even found out when the next course was starting, how much it was, and convinced a colleague to join in. Then plans collapsed when we ended up with more work and no chance to take part.

I remembered recently that I said before I turn 30 I would write letters to Alexei Sayle, Carol Ann Duffy, and Simon Armitage and ask them if I can have tea with them. Since the big 3-0 is rapdily approaching in the new year, there's no time to waste -- but the letters haven't yet been written. Or started.

The clock's went back to GMT in England this morning, so winter is on its way and the nights aren't so much drawing in, as they are drawn. It's that time of year where it gets dark, wet, and cold -- we should probably invest in one of those light boxes to keep the 'natural' light levels up.

Lots of people online are talking once more about NaNoWriMo -- I've never joined in before. And won't be this time, even though there's that rumoured zombie novel I'm never actually writing. I skipped last month's "Kid, I Wrote Back" open mike poetry -- partly due to only the day before returned from warmer climes, but partly because I'd felt the session we had in the park in the summer had gone horribly for me. That's no excuse, since I'd performed at an open mike since then in London at The Poetry Cafe, and been received warmly and appreciatively for my humour, talk of space and wonders of the solar system, as well as my actual poetry. Just the same, I have nothing written for the next session and no real ideas.

I keep thinking I want to write something about Jupiter's volcanic moon Io, because I think it's fascinating...but that's quite a big call for someone of very limited talent.

Left a good job in the city, working for the man every night and day

Something is wrong with me.
Every day, people go to work.
Plumbers, police officers, and postal workers.
Dustmen, doctors, and dot net developers.
Museum curators, masseurs, and Michael Jackson impersonators.

and me.

I feel sure that of all the people I see each day, everyone else is quietly going about their days, doing their jobs, and not thinking at least once a day " I need to get out of the place, but I have no idea what I could do any more".
What is wrong with me that I am not happy just having a job?  And not just any old job, but one that rewards me handsomely if I meet targets each month and each quarter. A job so simple that all I have to do is sell stuff, and if I want to earn more, I just have to work harder.


I should be thrilled that nobody's life hangs in the balance with what I do.  I should be grateful that I have a job almost guaranteed for as long as I can live up to my key performance indicators.  I should be kissing someone's feet in thanks for never having to worry about my safety beyond if the water in the cooler is looking a little green.

But we all know the drill by now: I'm not.

Thankfully, last week I read about the "Paid to Play eSchool", from John Williams and Marianne Cantwell, and it sounded like just what I needed.  I'm a reader and Twitter follower of both Williams and Cantwell (as regular readers will have noticed in recent posts), and was convinced from just reading about the eSchool that the cost would be a good investment for me.  It might not get me out of this job right now, but in time it would pay off when I was getting paid to do what I love.  I signed up, I was excited and I was nervous.

I wouldn't say I was now happy to go to work, but I could stand it better knowing that it could pay for something like this -- something that would help me work out how to use my talents and passions to make my way in the world, rather than just working for the man every night and day.

The trouble came a few days later, when I started to doubt my own suitability for the sessions. I read and re-read the synopsis, and started to wonder if it wasn't perhaps more pitched at people who knew what they wanted to do, but needed some help to do it, rather than fuck ups like me who are still kicking ideas about in their head like half-deflated footballs.  While I know that surely whatever I do must involve writing, I get a bit lost beyond that.  Sure, I could go in to the eSchool and say "I want to run an adventure sports company where the profits all go into helping the local communities where the activities are run".  But when I think about it, what about that would I actually enjoy?  What do I know about running any kind of a business, anyway, and is that the part I would actually enjoy -- or would it just be the adventure sports?  That's hardly a way forward.

I fired off an email, mentioning my thoughts and concerns -- and I hoped they'd say "Don't be silly!  That's normal -- everyone will be in the same boat as you!".  But instead, they agreed with me -- it wasn't right for me.  Now I feel like I can't even do this right.  I'm immensely grateful the organisers don't just take the money and run, they care about actually helping people (this is their own "paid to play" careers, I guess), and so it's important to get me in at the level that's appropriate.  Unfortunately, the appropriate level for me is going to be a lot more money than I have spare -- it's a work in progress, I'm waiting to hear back if there is anything I can do to make up the shortfall in cost between one programme and the other.

In the meantime, the boss has asked me for a meeting this week to discuss the job that we previously started talking about, and which I believe they moved the goalposts on and probably will do again.  What's supposed to get me out of sales and into social media and copywriting of email newsletters could just turn out to be a carrot on a stick, luring me ever forwards to keep me there.

I walk past people every day getting off the train and going to work on a building site neighbouring my flat, and I wonder if they ever think about their jobs -- or if they just get on with it, and accept it as normal.

Invisible

Image source: http://bit.ly/cVKVKt

Sometimes, I feel invisible.

I stand on the tube or the train, and I stand and stare into space, and I hang on to the overhead bar like a Rhesus monkey.  and I'm just like everybody else.

There's always people I notice.  They might be well-dressed, or just have such a presence and sense of personal style that they don't just stand out, they seem to be the only real person there.  I might pass them in the street or see them on the train and they are going about their own business, oblivious to most of the world around them, but they seem to exist more fully than other people.

I'm not alone in how I look or how I feel, and it is the very fact that I feel invisible that shows how unique and unremarkable I am -- I am the same in this feeling as almost everybody else I will meet.

How we dress communicates messages to the people around us.  It tells them how we feel, it tells them what we think of ourselves -- it can even tell people what we think of them, and of their opinions.  You can dress like a hipster or you can dress like a Goth.  You could be immensely well dressed and as confident as Gala Darling.  You could dress like Lady Gaga (if some of you guys are very confident), or you could leave the house dressed in a Star Trek uniform.  Most of us strive for some semblance of an individual style, without wanting to stand out too much and draw too much attention to ourselves. 

Most days I look at myself, and then I look at the people around me, and I wonder how anyone would ever notice or remember me.  It's probably exactly that sort of mindset that ensures that nobody does.

This goes much beyond how I look, It applies to my life.  I think about what I do -- not just work, but all of my interests -- and I think about who I am.  And I feel like an unnoticed face in a crowd, a name on a list that is quickly passed over.  A dust mite of history.

I know, essentially, we all are -- a pauper or a king, we are all part of the same compost heap. 

But I want to live the kind of life that is worth being remembered.  I want to be noticed.  Maybe if I start acting like the kind of person who would be, the rest would follow -- that's what contemporary psychologists and behavioural therapists tell us.

Warmer climes: part one

It's been a week since the girl an I returned from our jaunt round the Southern hemisphere -- in this case, a 2-week whirlwind trip of Western Australia and Bali.  I've been back a week and I haven't even started blogging about it until now, what kind of an animal does that?

My paper journal -- Stay Out of Circulation 'Til the Dogs Get Tired -- went woefully neglected, mostly because it wasn't really a journal kind of trip.  However, I did make some notes on my arrival in Australia, which will serve as a good intro to this post.  I'll write about Bali in a seperate entry, just to try and keep the visitor numbers above 1.

Monday 19, October

We arrived in Perth close to 1am.  Customs cleared, baggage reclaimed, we drive South.

Austrlian Highways don't seem to resemble the English idea of a motorway -- instead of there being six lanes of traffic, you just have one, long, straight road.  Driving at night, you stick to the middle to try and avoid any unwelcome surprises jumping into the road.  On either side of the road, dark trees and bush form a barrier before the black hills stretch to the starry night sky.

At one point, we stop to change drivers.  I kick my feet in the dust of the petrol station forecourt and am suddenly startled by the unexpected laughing of a bird.

By the time we reach Albany, dawn is breaking on Sunday and all around there are sounds of life.

 The first week of our holiday was spent in Albany, WA, visiting the girl's family.  We were blessed by unusually warm Spring weather, a kind of climate that suited me just fine -- and the residents of Albany all seemed happy with the result.

Albany is a city famous for its whales -- and specific times of year you can see either Humpback whales or Southern Right whales, and there are a number of tour companies running whale watching excursions.  Last year's visit fell right in the middle of the migrating periods of the two species -- one had left Albany's waters, and the other hadn't yet returned.  What this meant for me was there were no whales to be seen out there -- two trips on whale boats rewarded us with dolphins and seals, but not a whale.

I wondered if this visit would be the same.  I am pleased to report back that, instead, there were whales this time -- whales splashing in the water, just a short way off the beach, whales with calves, whales jumping out the water, whales splashing their tales.  Doing almost every damn thing except balancing beach balls on their noses, which everyone knows whales are supposed to do.

Overall, we didn't do a whole lot in Albany.  One day we drove out to the Stirling mountain ranges -- mainly so that the girl's Mum and Nanna could look at wild flowers, but I appreciated the opportunity to be out in the wilderness.  In an incredibly nerdy way, it made me a little bit exciting to be out in the mountains again, it reminded me of being in Peru last year.  Except this time, I wasn't nearly prepared for it -- while to make a round trip to the summit and back of several of the mountains we visited would only have taken about 4 hours or so, it needed to be planned for.  I had no water, no suitable clothing, and my trainers were falling apart on my feet.  Quite literally, I think you could see my sock through the gaping hole in one of them.  Just the same, I wandered up a mountain trail for almost an hour, before turning around and coming back.

Next time, I am determined I will go equipped -- with a day pack, my platypus water bottle, some real hiking trousers, and maybe a pair of boots.  About all I did have was a hat.

Other days we took walks along the boardwalk or the beach with the dog, or visited the forts and saw where the Anzac boats sailed from.

People in Australia -- mainly people outside of Albany -- have asked me since if, when we move to Australia, I could see myself living in Albany.  I don't know if they wonder what I think of it compared to London.  The truth is, the city of Albany has roughly the same population as the town I grew up in, out in Essex, where my parents still live.  The difference is Albany is spread of a much wider area, so there seems to be a lot more there.  Some people in Albany -- the girl's younger bro included -- have no intention of ever leaving, and particularly can't see why anyone would want to live overseas in somewhere like England.

One afternoon, the girl and I stood on the beach in the late afternoon sun.  It was about 4pm, so the kids were getting out of school and it was warm enough that many were coming down to the beach and to swim in the ocean.  As we stood there, the air was warm, kids were playing on the beach, and there was a whale to be seen only a little way off the coast, just splashing gently in the water...

When people ask me if I could live in Albany I tell them honestly that I could -- it was moments like that which made living in London seem much greyer.  But we could only live in Albany if there was anything to do.  If there was enough there that the girl and I could both find work, earn a decent wage, and be able to do other things we loved -- in that case, sure, it was a nice place.  It wasn't paradise, but where is?  It wasn't a bad place to be, if you still kept a healthy sense of adventure and love of travel.  But there are plenty of other nice places we can also be -- personally, when we are in Australia I have said I want to live in Fremantle, but it remains to be seen.