One of the things that’s been killing my motivation to blog is that I don’t seem to be going out and doing anything. Since the band split up, each week has just been a slog of trawling classified ad’s looking for guitarists – only to be ignored, stood up on audition night, or rejected after the fact. No gigs and little money tend to mean no adventure worth writing about on here. So I need a better job. The cinema chain whose name I’m careful not to actually mention on here are not Britain’s Worst Employers by any stretch of the imagination, but minimum wage on a zero-hour contract is a killer in an industry with such wildly fluctuating business levels. When the summer holidays finish, I will be barely scraping a living.

Furthermore, I’ve run up money on credit cards over the last few years, casually assuming that I’ll have a “real job” soon and so pay it all back quickly. But real work is surprisingly hard to come by, especially if a lot of your time is spent zombied from the irregular sleep of shift work. I tried the temping agencies, but had a series of disasters that kept me away from them for over a year. And it’s hard to motivate yourself to spend time on the disheartening job-hunting process when you already feel like life is passing you by. Personally, I want to spend my time doing things that actually give my life some meaning. On that note, today has been kind of good. I overslept, admittedly, but that means I’ve faced the day less tired than I would have done. So I managed to drag myself into actually applying for jobs (and ringing an agency or two just to remind them I’m still here…). Part of today’s work was a costing exercise.

Occasionally I work out my expenses on the back of an envelope, just so I have some idea where I’m up to financially. It mainly serves to tell me that I’m not really allowed to have a social life outside the occasional Sunday afternoon Pathfinder game, but today’s little tot-up gave me a ray of hope. I added up everything I needed to spend money on: credit card bills, the bills of a putative shared house, beer money – the lot. And then I struck off the frivolities and investigated how much it would cost me to stop living with my mum but carry on with my current thrifty lifestyle. For a moment, it looked like bad news. When I’ve done this exercise in previous years, I’ve just whacked 25% on the total as a vague tax and national insurance margin. And that figure told me I’ll be living with my mum for a long time to come. So I decided to look properly at the rates and the income brackets. And what I’ve found is that I only need to start earning £12,500 a year to start moving on with my life…

~ by Scary Rob on 4 August, 2014.

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