I’m 25 years old and I still live with my parents.    So far I’ve been fortunate to live the easy life, there are no mortgage payments to worry about and I have no children yapping at my feet.  Which is just as well seeing as my career has stalled to the point where I can’t see myself ever earning enough money to move out.

5 years ago I was at  University studying Graphic Design.  Everything was planned out perfectly, I would gain a degree, get a high earning job, buy my own flat in the City, and maybe buy myself a Ferrari.  However halfway through my course I quit.  I was burned out from spending countless hours in the library and at home doing coursework on a subject I had no interest in.  I also found it impossible to juggle a part-time job with studying, and the big mistake I made was when I chose a part-time job over a degree.

About a year before I quit university, I received a phonecall from a friend I used to go school with.  He was working at a pub around the corner from me,  they had new owners and urgently needed staff cover New Years Eve.  I was offered a shift and after impressing I spent the next 2 and a half years of my working life there.

I have many fond memories there, and even pondered the thought of one day running my own pub.  But after a while I saw too much of the ugly side, the bad attitudes from under-age kids and the pikeys who would come in and cause havoc are just two things in bar work that I will never miss.  The regulars were always good for a laugh and always bought me drinks, but knew I couldn’t spend the rest of my life there, so I took the plunge into the big bad world of office-work.

I found an advertisement on Gumtree.com for a job in central London.  The description mentioned something about going around auditing computers and other general office duties, no experience required.  ‘Great‘ I thought.  I applied and the next day got a phone call from a woman called Nancy who worked for an agency near Waterloo Station.  The job was starting on the following Monday and was at a legal firm in Blackfriars.  I didn’t really know who they were, all I knew was that I felt excited and quite scared at the same time.  I remember my first morning and experiencing the rush-hour on the train for the first time, all these people standing around me in suits who were probably on £50,000 a year at least.  I was starting on £7.50 an hour, not bad I thought for an office junior.  I was just pleased to have a job with normal hours and half-decent pay.

My first few months there were quite overwhelming.  The office had 300 staff, in a building with over 2000.  At first they started me off with basic duties such as delivering stationery around different parts of the building and general data entry tasks.  I was only meant to be there for a few months as a temp but they ended up keeping me on for another 2 years.  As time went by I was slowly being given more opportunities, up to the point where I was trusted with spending thousands of pounds on IT equipment.  I could see myself steering towards a career in procurement, they were a Government Department so I was learning all the Government purchasing procedures, and I was generally enjoying myself.  However I was still a temp, so I had no job security.

Finally my job was posted as a permanent position, starting at 18k a year.  Even though I’d been doing the job for the past 2 years they couldn’t just give it to me, they had to advertise the job to give everybody else a chance.  I was feeling too cocky though and didn’t give the application form much thought, I just presumed that seeing as they all knew me I would be given special treatment.  Despite offers of assistance from my co-workers I half-heartedly filled in the form, I presumed I was guaranteed an interview, but how wrong was I…

A month later the head of our department called me into his office, I had no idea what to expect.  He told me I hadn’t got through the sifting process, which meant I wasn’t even going to have an interview.  I felt gutted, and spent the rest of the day in the office feeling like a stranger.  I was so settled that the thought of leaving hadn’t even occurred to me.  It was a harsh lesson that I have had to learnt from, and I was grateful to be told in person rather than through a cowardly letter.  However even now when I look back I still punch myself in the face.  I’m such an idiot.

As usual life decided to send all the bad luck in one go.  The recession well and truly hit us, the newspapers were full of stories of  job cuts, and of course job advertisements were disappearing everywhere.  I was kept on as a temp for a few months which brought my last day just before the end of the financial year.  There were a few other temps leaving as well so we planned a big leaving drink-up at the pub, I also received an amazing leaving card and even an ipod touch.

At lunchtime however the director called all the staff in the canteen for an urgent announcement.  Due to Government cutbacks we were to be disbanded, with all staff being relocated to other departments.  Maybe it was a blessing in disguise that I missed out on the job?  I don’t know.  Anyway after the announcement the whole office was allowed to leave early so we all enjoyed a heavy drink-up.

After leaving I was left in limbo.  I was unemployed and didn’t have a clue what to do with myself, but for the moment I was enjoying my freedom.  I was reluctant to sign on the dole, mainly I guess through pride.  When you read the tabloids too much you are left with the impression that only benefits cheats claim benefits.  But my parents told me there’s no shame in signing on, and even though I only received £45 a week it was better than nothing.

People underestimate how low you feel when you’re out of work.  You really do feel useless and you lose your confidence to apply for anything.  Most job descriptions are also over the top, you’ll never end up doing half of what they say you’ll do.  The longer you’re out of work the harder it is to go back, so like a true chav I was playing the lottery in the hope I wouldn’t have to worry about work ever again.  I also discovered that after losing the routine of a job my diet was changing and my sleep patterns were turning me into a vampire.

Eventually, after applying to every job under the Sun, an agency in  Covent Garden gave me a call and wanted to see me.  I made sure I was suited and booted, which I think impressed them, as they offered me 2 permanent positions.  One was at a charity for 15k a year, and the other was at a posh legal firm in Mayfair, at 18k a year.  Both of these were post/print-room roles.  I wasn’t in a position to be fussy, I was desperate for work so I applied for both of them.  In the meantime the agency gave me some temp work where I did endless amounts of data entry with invoices.  It was the most mind-numbing work I’ve ever done and it was based in Kennington which is a really shabby area, but I was just pleased to be working again.

After my interviews for the permanent positions I was offered the 15k role.  I was annoyed to have missed out on the job in Mayfair, particularly as I took part in 2 interviews.  But still, seeing as all I wanted was a job, I finally got what I wanted.  I kept thinking back to the legal firm, where if only I had filled in the form properly I would already be on 18k a year, or possibly more.  But still I decided to give it a go and to hopefully work my way up.

The job was for a sexual health charity based in London Bridge.  They were nice enough to have a bowl of condoms at reception and the people there were very friendly.  But after a while it became clear that the role was just too easy.  Sometimes I would leave work wondering what I’d actually done the whole day, and after a year of the occasional busy day I decided I should really think about leaving.

I also got sick of commuting into London.  I was spending £1400 a year on train travel, and at least twice a week I would experience delays.  I don’t really have the patience for queuing, I’d rather walk than wait at a bus stop.  That makes me sounds very grumpy, and maybe I am.  But at the end of the day the transport system in London is a joke and I no longer wanted to be a part of it.

Anyway my girlfriend sent me a job advert she ‘d found in the newspaper for a Facilities role which was offering slightly more money.  They were a large children’s charity who I admit before that day I had never heard of befor, but they are pretty famous.  As I type this I am only a week and a half into it so there isn’t too much to say.  I’m also pleased its a local job, so no more trains for me.

In the past 5 years I’ve taken quite a few different paths, and whether they were all good is debatable.  But the main thing is life overall is good.   I’m not looking for a job with a flashy job title, I’m just after a flashy wage packet.  And if I win the lottery, then that’ll do me fine.