Pet hate of the day....applying for a job you know you are perfect for, but losing motivation as you copy and paste your qualifications into the fuckingly complicated application, knowing they probably wont even read the bit of paper that has your life so pathetically laid out before them.

I have lost my motivation to be a functioning member of the work force and probably will soon lose the will to be a member of the human race. today is not a good day.

If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Then quit. There is no point being a damn fool about it. W C Fields


Ive had enough.

I have worked at the charity call center for over a month now, and I have been soul destroyed, run to the ground, demotivated and emotionally drained. Never before have I worked in such a harsh, joy barren environment before and I have worked in many dead end and depressing jobs in my short time on this earth.

They pull the thin, moth eaten veil of 'Charity' over a heartless, sales driven role so that you are conned into believing that you are 'saving the world' (a term bandied around by the 'motivational' staff inbetween them swearing and screeching about how much more money they earn than you) I didnt beleive I was saving the world, I merely hoped I would be able to keep the wolf from the door and pay my rent. I'm definitely paying for something, but it feels like I'm paying off all my wrong doings for this life and the last.

I am selling nothing. I'm not selling insulation, or solar panels. Something useful that people might want or need. I'm selling a warm feeling of 'goodwill' a chance for someone to feel like they are making a difference. They may as well keep their money in their pockets because its a cold, dark world of charity corporations which are as bad as businesses that sell sex to children. (Justin Beiber corporation) Somebody gets fat on the donations, but its not the starving children in Ethiopia.

I am disillusioned. After being verbally abused by the poor members of society that are constantly bombarded by cold calls in the privacy of their own home, and robotically droning the same generic script for more than a month, I am tired. I am tired of struggling to keep a job I dont even want, but need. I am tired of being so very disposable in a hive of feverish mindless activity. If I dropped out there would be ten more drones to take my place.

And I am frustrated at having so little say in my own future. On Tuesdays we have 'going home targets' a small compensation where we work towards an unbelievably unrealistic call target, and then we are released early. We worked our butts off today. And suddenly the target became achievable and I felt a push and a drive that gave purpose and meaning to my day. Excited, I realized we actually, amazingly, might be able to go home early (although 8pm isn't that early by anyone's standards). We were almost at our target when the team leaders realized we might slip under the net. They moved our campaign and gave us a new target that was once again completely unrealistic. I was actually shattered, crushed! Such a small thing like going home early had become everything to me that day - something I had fought towards and strived for had been snatched away from me at the last minute. I almost cried! That was definitely a low point in my life.

But struggling to find alternative work is becoming difficult. I have to keep sending out applications and keep going to work in Hell. Even though I would rather inject my eyeballs with vinegar than go in tomorrow. Arrrgh!

Adults with Attitude

Ive just finished watching a documentary on channel 4od about teenagers;

http://www.channel4.com/programmes/teen-trouble/4od

I fully agreed with the presenter, who looked like a younger, balding (?!) Danny Dyer, when it came to highlighting the fear that the media have instilled about teenagers, through articles like ASBO teens, teen riots, teens out of control and knife crime in school. While he was not denying that there were teenagers who were involved in serious misconduct, it was disproportionate to what was being represented in the media. It sold newspapers (the News of the World and The Sun yet again being the main culprits) while hoodies and the 'Vicky pollards' of the generation were shunned and feared as a result.

In a badly conducted convention during the documentary, some of the teenagers and the adults of one community were asked to 'discuss' some of the issues. One woman, who was bitter and obviously distressed, mainly due to the fact that her chrysanthemums were routinely dug up and tipex had been graffittied on her pristine front door, shouted "why cant you all just go somewhere where you are not in the way of houses, shops or playgrounds?!" after looks of confusion from the teens, one of them retorted (very politely I thought) that why should they be moved when all they were doing was standing around with their mates and chatting. Which is what the majority of teens want, and do. Just because it is intimidating for single adults to walk by a group of young, boisterous teens, they want them off the streets.

I found this interesting mainly because it stuck a cord with my street. I am definitely far from being a delinquent teen, but I am still a young adult, living what may be seem as an unconventional life in a small bedsit with my boyfriend and dog, and yes - we do have parties every now and then, we do play music and I do walk my dog down the road (with doggie bags of course, I'm not that much of a rebel) but I feel ostracised by the other families, especially the female women of the street. I feel looked down on, get dirty looks from the lady next door if my music is playing, and I get shouted at by the fat woman down the road for walking my dog. It has got to the point where I am nervous about walking Jack in case I get verbal abuse, and I turn the bass down so low on the speakers that barely a dribble of sound comes out. It's not me who has the attitude, its the people who don't like to see anyone under the age of 40 on the street, or living next door.

It was interesting when the presenter went to Brighton to interview an aged Mod, who had been involved in the Mods and Rockers Riots in the 60's. The term moral panic, was coined by the sociologist Stanley Cohaninwhich who examined media coverage of the mod and rocker riots. "Although Cohen admits that mods and rockers had some fights in the mid-1960s, he argues that they were no different to the evening brawls that occurred between youths throughout the 1950s and early 1960s, both at seaside resorts and after football games. He claims that the UK media turned the mod subculture into a negative symbol of delinquent and deviant status." (Wikipedia)

If its not the mods and the rockers, its hippies or skinheads. Or hoodies.

The conclusion to the documentary was a complete letdown however. The documentary wrapped up with the enlightening idea that the generation gap could be narrowed by the adults and the teens 'talking' more.....Trying to make a teenager talk about anything is like getting a blood out of a stone! Always has been, always will be - and that basically concludes my point, if there was one in the first place, that there will always be mistrust and friction between the generations. This is because we are constantly evolving to the point that every generation is different, and as we are also suspicious beings, we hate anything different and new. I can't understand the younger generation, and their new fads, and I don't relate to the older generation with their snide looks and their constant mutterings about loud music, hairstyles and flip flops.

We just have to take it as it comes and embrace the differences. I look forward to muttering about how loud the music is through my walls when I'm a 60 year old woman, while I try and listen to my tunes on the ancient ipod.

I dont have time for a breakdown.

I think I'm hitting a quarter -life crisis.

At the grand old age of 25, I have realized that unlike my parents and the generation before, I (and a lot of my peers) don't have any life security.

I don't have career security (....or even a job?) or house security (the rental prices are rising higher than the expected change in university fees) and despite trying to get better accommodation, I get shot down at the credit checks. By which time we have already paid the extortionate agency fees of excess 200 quid.

I am feeling deflated by my expectations in life, and I can assure you that those expectations were not very high to begin with. All I wanted was to leave university, get a job that paid more than minimum wage and live somewhere I felt safe. I would have liked to have learnt to drive as well, but turns out it will cost an arm and a leg to get on the road, and once on the road you will have to sell your soul to stay on it.

But more than that, I think it the shadow cast by the high social security and mobility of the previous generation, or at least my parents - where they had slotted into solid careers of teaching and electrician/mechanics, they had bought thier first house at aged 22, had already traveled and given birth to me by the age I am now! And went on to continue to travel, give birth and produce fantastic life experiences that I find completely out of my grasp due to debt and frustrating high costs of living in one piece in the UK.

But I am bitter. And I am tainted by my still confused lack of where my ambitions and goals lie.
I have been seduced by the endless possibilities portrayed in college and university, then stunned into cowering submission when I realized that not only had I left university with such a vague idea of what I wanted to achieve, but I was unqualified to fight in the savage employment arena.

I feel like I'm running out of time, in a race I am not sure I want to be running in.... maybe I should teach.

Moving on up?

I want to move. After a weekend of police sirens, kids smashing bottles and cars outside the window, plus a domestic violence incident two doors down, I don't want to live on Hepburn Road anymore. I love the little bedsit, but its not doing much for my mental state. Plus there is a woman/she devil, who keeps shouting at me from her window down the road whenever I walk Jack, letting me know in her terms that I am not allowed to walk dogs on her street. She now has me cornered as she seems to live at two properties at either end of Hepburn road and makes it known that I am not welcome "round these here parts".

So, I started looking on gumtree for a new house for myself, my boyfriend and my dog. Its very exciting imagining what your future home could be, where it could be and how many potted plants you could fit on the windowsill - plus how many people you could fit into the living room for a house warming party.

However, the pleasant dream of new carpets and an actual kitchen turned to grey dawn reality when I realized that the prices seem to have gone up as the job market has gone down - and I was looking at a hefty increase in rent if I want to move out of the bedsit. I had to scrape the idea of getting a garden along with a flat (a garden would make life so much easier, as walking Jack every three times a day in the pouring rain is not the best way to spend the winter) and focus on a one bedroom place. Hopefully with a washing machine...

We also had to scape moving out of stokes croft. Anywhere else on the Bristol map becomes doubly expensive the minute you step out of the invisible boundaries of stokes croft/Easton and St Pauls, and so even before I could consider leaving my station and inching towards the grand banks of Clifton I was shot down. So we decided to look at a few flats around Stokes Croft (but away from the fat woman who lives in two houses) and looked at two properties, one down City road and one above a kebab place on the main stokes croft road. The first one was 475 pcm, and I didn't have a very good feeling about it. It was further down city road and it felt run down and tired. If a road could be given medication, it would be on anti-depressants. The flat was very big, and came with a real kitchen PLUS a dish washer (Josh's eyes lite up like a child at Christmas when he saw it) but I just didn't like the look of it. The next flat was much better, even though it was almost half the size of the one on City road.....but it was that much closer to the Centre, and for that reason it felt that much safer for some reason. Plus it was that much closer to the 24 hour boozer.

It is also 475 pcm, but I think between us we can afford it....and it has two rooms, so I can get away from the Jack and Josh every so often and watch 'Lily Allen - from Rags to Riches' on 4od, without contempt from the boys.

I have handed in my guarantor and paperwork - but they are asking me to earn 14,500 per year which is crazy! Surely most people on minimum wage cant afford that, and I'm sure that people who do earn that wont want to live above 'chicken lickin' on Stokes Croft High street.

I'm just waiting for the call to let me know if I've passed the rent agreement test, if not, I'm out of pocket 200 quid for agency fees. Its a cruel world for the poor and needy!

Bird In a Rusty Cage

Trapped By Poverty:

Once you are on the dole, there is less chance of finding work than if you are already employed... I did know this before my last contract ended, and so I gave myself a comfortable two months to find work and started off with a very selectable few job offers which I thought would be good enough for me - ie, a step up the golden career escalator, that would speed me up to the heavenly gates of job status and steady income. However, after two miserable interview fails and countless rejection letters, I suddenly realized that my contract was speeding to a rather abrupt end and I was going to have to seriously consider signing my life over to the benefit system once again. And once I had signed on the dotted line, my job opportunities were going to plummet to a skeleton crew of agency work/no skills required/night shift at Asda. Not that there is anything wrong with jobs such as those, but to me it felt like I had take one step forward and twenty million steps back into the gloom of stacking shelves in Tesco.

Not only does signing onto benefits limit your job search, but you slowly get used to the days of doing nothing, and it breeds low self esteem (when asked "what do you do?" its not easy to mutter back "I'm in between jobs") but also a lack of motivation and ambition. You watch the days go by, and as each rejection letter (or deadline) goes by with a big No, you start to think "is it me? can they smell the sense of despair and failure on the application form?! Eau de Dole or Perfume of the Penniless.

Photo courtesy of pinterest.com/lightwading/bird-cages/

Riot in my Garden

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hkCvka1uwuo

There was a bit of a commotion last Thursday! We were first alerted to the start of the trouble, when we heard the police helicopters flying over head as we were eating our Thursday meal of stir fry and noodles... plus a cup of cider from my newly chipped best mug.

We went to investigate and found about six riot vans parked around the new, controversial Tesco that had opened up in stokes croft. There had been much debate on the subject of the new Tesco, as there had been a fair amount of protesting when it was first discovered that there was to be a new Tesco opening up in the Stokes Croft area.

Stokes Croft prides itself on having a collective community spirit, and encourages local buying and produce. Despite the opposition, Tesco still had the arrogance to go ahead with the build and so therefore there should have been little surprise that protesting continued after the opening of the shop. I personally shop at Tesco when needed, mainly due to being very skint and being able to pay by card when I have only 8 quid in the bank and can't take out any more cash - HOWEVER, I don't think that stokes croft itself needed another Tesco....especially when there was already one on Jamaica street and a newly opened Sainsbury up Gloucester road. Plus its the principle that counts, meaning that a big corporation as well as the local council should care enough to listen to the local people and restrain their money grabbing and pushy ways, and give the area enough space to breathe instead of shoving another Tesco down our throats.

Anyway, at about 8pm there were more police than anything else, including riot vans from south wales believe it or not. A crowd had begun to mill about out of curiosity, but we decided that there wasn't much else happening, so we went to the pub.

After about two hours we had had enough of sitting in a pub where we couldn't afford any alcohol, so started to make our way back to the house. I was exhausted and just wanted to curl up and watch some 'Come dine with me ' on 4od by that time. We by-passed what we thought was the hub of the protest, and ducked down into our lane on Hepburn Road. Suddenly, as we turned the corner of the bend in the road, we heard the roar of people and saw the flicker of flames at the end of the small road, where I lived half way down. We decided to check it out, as its hard to say no to the curiosity that is woken up at the sight of mayhem.

The police/bailiff/bouncer types, had kettled everybody down towards City road and in defiance of the aggressive police presence, people had started throwing bottles, burning cares and shouting and bawling. It was a nightmare scene, that drew an even more curious crowd, which escalated in more aggressive tactics from the police lines.

At one point, the police line surged forward and I got swept along with the panicked crowd, which is a terrifying experience when you are surrounded by drunken, angry people with bottles - but even more terrifying was the fact we were being herded by the intimidating force of the police, blank behind their riot equipment and their unpredictable kettling of the general public. We were being forced down through the main Stokes Croft area at pub kicking out time, where young people and old were suddenly caught up in the riots after spending an innocent Bank Holiday night at the local pub! I believe the violence was also out of frustrating of being pushed around, when a lot of people just wanted to get home IE, me. The intimidating tactics were used towards the general public and not just the protesters, as it was herded into the very busy public area of Stokes Croft. When it gets that dangerous I think the police should have lessened their force, as none of the violence would have started or even continued, if the police had lessened their presence or had let people actually go home!

I really believe that if the police had packed up and left it would never have happened. The anger and the rioting was aimed at the police for pushing us and herding us around - and without that incitement it would never have happened. I've got to say that I have never felt like I am living in a Big Brother state as much as I did last night - all because we as the stokes croft residents were against ANOTHER Tesco! It was very intimidating and they used bullying tactics to deal with the situation. People don't like being herded like animals, and will attack if backed into a corner.

Big Brother does not always know best.

Tuesday Blues

Its Tuesday.....A day that doesnt have much status to the unemployed. Monday is usually the day I feel almost grateful to not have a job, when I can sleep in late after a very social weekend (unless its sign on day, which is every other monday - the horror) and don't have to force myself to trudge along with all the other Monday zombie work force.

But Tuesday is the time to get back on the job search in earnest. I have sent off FIVE administration jobs this morning, FIVE! That's a fair amount I thought, as I had my morning tea break, chuffed and inwardly rather smug at my email 'sent' folder that had a lovely little listing of "Dear sir/madam, I am sending my covering letter and CV...." That is, until I realized that I had a spelling mistake in the covering letter. Which wouldn't have been so bad, if I hadn't copied and pasted that same covering letter five times and sent it to all the job postings.

You cant really expect someone to hire you as administration support if you cant spell 'sincerely'.

bugger!

The Story so Far....

When I first moved to Bristol I was living on my own for the first time, and the rent was what I thought to be a reasonable 315 pcm, which included the council tax and water. I paid for the electricity on a meter. I transferred my jobseekers allowance from Bournemouth, however, the housing benefit would have taken a couple of months and I wouldn't have been able to keep the new bedsit. So I took a job as caretaker for the local church, that meant I swept and mopped the hall for two hours every morning, for £60 per week. This was a start, and I felt lucky to have been able to secure some finance in the first few weeks of moving to Bristol. However, this wasn't enough, so I advertised as a domestic cleaner on gumtree.com and charged £10 ph. I soon took on a number of new clients, but looking back I realized that it was quite a big responsibility, as I was given the keys to a number of apartments, which I cleaned during the day, but without proper insurance I was liable if something had gone wrong, as well as the dangers of meeting strangers in their homes from the internet! However, I was still struggling to pay the rent, and thats when I started to get letters from Ross and Robert's 'civil enforcements agency'
( http://www.rossandroberts.com/ )

I cant remember the exact letter, but it was in regards to the council tax I was supposed to have paid in Bournemouth, for the 9 months I was living in a property there. I owed them around £300, but I was under the impression that due to the fact that I was on jobseekers and housing benefit at the time, I was exempt to council tax. I attempted to talk to bournemouth council, but they refused to talk to me stating that the matter was now in the hands of the bailiffs. I felt incredibly frustrated, as this was the first I had heard about the debt, and I was willing to try and come to an agreement with the council, rather than through an enforcement agency, but even though I spoke to the manager at the council they refused to deal with me any further.


I rang the number on the letter from the bailiffs and they insisted on coming round to see me. I was unsure what to do at that point, but as they now had a contact number for me the phone calls started in force, and when I tried to talk to them, the man on the phone started to threaten me with prison and police action, at one point I became incredibly upset and had to leave work early as I was unable to concentrate on anything. I felt pressured into allowing them to come and see me, but I first called the CAB and asked their advice. They told me not to let them into the property, so on the day that the bailiff was coming round I waited outside the house. He turned up and immediately became incredibly intimidating. He told me to open the door, as he needed the toilet and when I refused he started to point and raise his voice at me.
I felt humiliated standing outside and felt close to tears so I gave in and opened the door. He immediately barged into my bedsit and started to write down what items I had of worth in the room.

I was now visibly upset and crying (which was very embarrassing when you are trying to remain in control of the situation!) and I could see that he was listing items in the room that were not mine, such as the landlords microwave etc. but by this time I just wanted the man to get out of my house, and I kept quiet as he made me sign the forms to say that he had listed the items for secured debt. I felt violated as it was my home that he had come into and listed my personal effects as though everything was merely a price tag and nothing belonged to me. He even joked (although I saw it more as a threat) that he could take away my dog, who was hiding under the bed.




After that I was supposed to have paid 100 towards the cost of that 'visit' before starting to pay off the debt for the council tax on a regular basis. However, I didn't have the money by the time the date came round, so I ignored the banging on the door when the bailiffs came round. They started charging £140 every time they came round, and the debt started to rise considerably until it was over £1000 in total. They began threatening to come round and break in to start taking my things, and I started staying over friends houses as I was too scared to be in the house by myself. I also had to take my dog to work, as I was scared to leave him in the house. What made the situation worse, was that the bedsit wasn't even secure, and had a broken window lock, which the landlord failed to fix.

After a particularly threatening phone call I knew I had to get out, and moved in with a friend, leaving the property empty. For two months I lived on my friends sofa, living out of a backpack and trying to find new accommodation. I struggled to pay the last months rent on the previous house, and without a job I wasn't able to find anywhere new, without work references. I was at a very low point, and incredibly unsettled in a new city without anywhere to live, no job and no chance of finding anywhere - as well as the knowledge that my friends wouldn't be able to let me stay for much longer, as it was quite a big thing to let a girl and her young dog sleep on the sofa every night!

My luck turned around when I was put on the 'new deal' campaign that the old labour government had put into place for young people up until the age of 26, where they could enter a 'work experience' scheme with a paid wage for six months, in an established company. I was put forward to work for Places for People, as admin support for a family hostel in Whitchurch. Despite feeling apprehensive during the interview (when you are so desperate for work, you don't tend to feel incredibly confident!) I was told that although they gave the position to someone else, they were going to create another position for me working with the Young Parents support team. This really was the light at the end of the tunnel, and within days I had found a bedsit on gumtree (which I am still living in) that was the cheapest I had ever found, and was able to give them a solid work reference and move in as soon as possible.

Since then I have moved into the new place, I completed six months work experience with places for people, which has helped me realize that I want to seek a career in support work. Unfortunately, due to the uncertainty with the new government and the cuts in support funding, Places for People were unable to continue my placement, and so here I am six months later, back on the benefits. AND the new government has scrapped the 'new deal' scheme, which helped me the first time round.

However, in regards to the bailiffs and my combined debts, I tried to get a Debt relief order with the CAB but because the bailiffs had entered my property it was now classed as 'secured debt' which was not cleared under the DRO. I felt there was nothing left for me apart from bankruptcy, and started to look into that (its not a pretty road to go down I assure you) but luckily, my dad was in the same situation (like father, like daughter) and he had got in contact with an outside agency called Debt Free Me. He booked an appointment to see one of the advisers, and I collected all the information and letters from all my debtors, but to be honest, I didn't expect much from the agency - I truly thought there was no option but bankruptcy. However, the advisor showed up and he was a cheerful, very welsh, and very likable man who became an advisor for debt free me after becoming in debt himself while his son was in a coma after a car accident. He phoned up the bailiffs and after berating them for harassing a 'vulnerable young girl' he made them take back the debt they had charged for all the unwanted visits. This was unbelievable and I was stunned, but after mulling it over afterwards I realized that the debts are obviously nonsense and used as a threatening tactic. But they get away with it as they target vulnerable people, usually the elderly, single mums or young people who are unaware of their rights and who pay up just to get away from the threat., and until someone takes them on who knows what they are talking about (ie, the debt free advisor) they will continue to charge these extortionate rates.


So now Debt Free Me are managing my debt, and I pay them a certain amount (a manageable amount) every month, and they distribute it to my debtors. In a years time, my debt will be considerably smaller and I can 'buy' it out for a small amount, thus being able to get rid off my debts. The best thing about Debt Free Me is that they supply me with self addressed and stamped envelopes that I put all the threatening letters from banks and solicitors and then post it to them to take care of. However, the banks, mainly lloyds tsb, still try and get me to respond to them personally, with threats of court action - a trick that if I was to respond to, it would nullify my contract with Debt Free Me. Very sly of the banks, as even though I am obviously trying to get out of my debts, they know they can get more money out of me if I pay them direct.


On the work front, I am now depressingly six months out of work. I promised myself I would not go back on benefits after working with Places for People, but due to the uncertain nature of the job market at the moment, I was unable to find more work despite looking at least two months before my contract ended.

I went to a few interviews in support work over the first few weeks, but I was horrified at the high number of applicants. I was lucky enough to get interviews for two positions where over 600 people had applied for! I was told that my lack of experience was the reason I did not get the job, as there were many older people going back into the work force who had much more experience. It doesn't bode well for younger applicants that may not have as much experience, but are eager to learn and develop.

I was also told by a woman in the jobcentre (who I know on first name terms depressingly) that the jobcentre system is being pushed to get people off the benefit system "wether or not they have found employment" this means that they are making the system harder to navigate, and many people are being taken off the system for not turning up to meetings (a surprisingly easy thing to happen as they change dates and times and only let you know via one phone call. If you miss the call, you are out of the loop) or for not filling out the numerous array of forms, letters and applications. I feel as though you have to second guess the system, which is stressful and frustrating for very little money to keep you alive at the end of the day. Once you are off the system, you have to start again and people are losing their homes and have no money for food and other necessities because of it. More people off benefits does not necessarily mean more people in employment unfortunately - it now means more people becoming homeless.


I apply for approximately three jobs every other day, and I tend to check the websites every day. I send off initial inquiry emails, before filling out either the application form or send a cv with covering letter. This has become very time consuming, but ultimately very frustrating, as such a small percentage of people get back to me that filling out a dreary form that could take me the best part of two hours, it is hard to get the motivation.

I recently went for an interview for admin support for RBS bank, which although it is not a job I would have preferred, it was well paid and the first interview I had been given for months. I dressed up smartly (too smartly you might have said, as it was dress down friday) and I felt relaxed in the interview despite a few miss-haps...... I was very excited to hear that I had passed the interview, but the next bomb shell was quite unexpected - I was not going to be taken on, as I had failed the credit check that was required for working in a bank. Despite having no contact with customers, I was declined due to bad credit history. This was a little too much to bear at the time, as the reason I was trying to get a job was to get out of my bad credit, and I couldn't get a job because of my credit.


I have now signed with a nursery agency, that pays £6 ph. That would be fine, however, it is an agency that cannot guarantee that I will be able to get full time work - therefore if I sign off benefits, I might not be able to cover rent and essentials, but I don't know that until I start working. Even if I say that I will work up to 16 hours a week, and still keep some benefits, if I have to turn down work with the agency, they might stop offering it.


I am still looking for full time work, and still applying for jobs.

6 month review...

I have just got back from the Job shop and I was devestated and pretty humiliated to find out that I was attending my six month jobseekers review.

I really didn't think it had been that long, although I has probably been in denial since finishing my contract with Places for People, where I had worked for Admin support for six months previously.

I had promised myself (and felt quite smug at my forward thinking, during the comfort of the 9-5) that I was NEVER going to be unemployed again, and I laughed dismissively at the long queue outside my local jobcentre, vowing that I would never again be part of that miserable meandering line. I would continue with my budding career as as administrative support, an illustrative path that was littered with attractive mortgages at reasonable percentage rates and job security with health insurance and new pens, and never again would I beg at the feet of the job point, clicking on 'new jobs' that consisted of mainly leaflet distributers and kleeneze contributors. Finally at the age of 25, after two healf hearted attempts at university and numerous dead end jobs, I was going places. I was earning my keep, and part of the work force.

Now, after 1,600 applications, 289 phone calls (it would have been more, but jobseekers allowence doesnt really cover phone credit) and 4 interviews, plus one rejection letter that read 'To Mr Damaris Young" I am ready to give up. In fact, I did give up yesterday and I sat in my room eating rich tea biscuits and watching 'That 70's show' and I didnt even look at my emails.

They say that people on benefits are lazy timewasters who are leaching off the tax payers money, and this image makes me feel even worse about my situation - if it is so easy to find a job, what am I doing wrong?!

I have decided to write a blog after a friend has decided to do a small documentary on the benefits system and I was asked to write up a little bit....this started a flood of emotive writing on the subject which I will put up next - and I will continue to blog my frustrated job search until I find a job......this may take a while.