Every other employed person seems to be worried about losing their job. Not me though, as I'm already jobless. I'm just worried I might never work again. How many people want a sexagenarian in a recession?Last year was a bummer on the work front. I was made redundant by a national charity in February, and since then all I've had is a three-month non-job at another charity where I was twiddling my thumbs all day.
I do want to work. I'm not one of those people desperate to retire and go fishing. I need a focus in my life, something to keep the vital juices flowing and the grey cells buzzing. Sitting in front of the telly watching Corrie is not for me.
If I'd been more astute when I was young, I would probably have acquired some essential skill that was always in demand and would guarantee me constant employment. But having always been a bit of a drifter, more interested in short-term pleasure than the rest of my life, that never happened.
I've spent most of my worklife in the dusty recesses of bookshops, discovering a long list of brilliant books but not doing much for my future prospects.
I'm lucky that Jenny earns a handsome salary, otherwise I would have no choice but to take up anything that was going (shelf-filler at Sainsbury's, anyone?) rather than holding out for what I really want.
In the meantime I amuse myself visiting all those brilliant blogs out there, catching up on my reading (have just finished "Confederacy of Dunces"), getting drunk on all my favourite CDs and doing all those domestic chores my overworked partner never gets round to (or runs a mile from).
And I thank my lucky stars I'm not a downtrodden machinist in some suffocating Beijing sweatshop.
