Wednesday 3 December 2014

Winter Coming Down

Passed no pink childs' wellies on the way to work yesterday.
When I got to work (I work as a charity fundraiser) that I have been changed from a campaign I did OK on to one I do dreadfully on, and also that I hate. I don't connect with the campaign, the supporters. I find their ethos disturbing. I only agreed to work on the campaign at the time because I had not yet passed probation. I thought my chances of passing would be greater if I did agree to work for this religious charity (I am non-religious). This is in the last week of the campaign, when we are calling the 'dregs' of the campaign - the people who keep putting off taking the call (They say 'call me back another time!' instead of just saying 'I don't want to hear from you ever again!' and end up wasting everyones time). I didn't do well - of course - but it got me into worrying about my job again. It doesn't take much to worry me about my job and employment prospects. I have spent the last 13 months working where I am convinced that I am going to be led down the route of disciplinaries for not doing well, leading to me eventually being fired, and then having to work at some minimum wage job in a petrol station again. I spent the three years in my last job worrying about the same too.
Because I was in a different room, I did get to sit next to Aviva. I was telling her about my long, restless walks I do at the weekend. She said - quite without prompting - what was it I was looking for on these walks. This unnerved me as I had been doodling a comic strip about these long walks as I worked - the last panel (showing a younger me walking our old dog Bracken In what I presume might be Ickenham) had the words 'I spend the suburban evening searching for something I no longer believe exists'.
Not that I ever had any idea what it was anyway.