As another unemployediversary sneaks round the corner (8 months of larking about…what a bloody slacker) I can’t help but get “well deep and meaningful innit” about the one glaringly obvious thing everyone neglects to mention about travelling – the bit where you have to come home.

Home, ‘where everybody knows your name and they’re always glad you came’…except they’re not. You’re a constant smug faced reminder of the fun frolics and damn right ball you’ve had whilst you’ve been away and people get so bored of it…so quick.

The novelty of ‘normal life’ wears off…and fast! The day to day of desperately searching for a way to return to the rat race grinding you down like the contents of a pestle and mortar (on every single episode of Jamie Oliver….its a pavlova Jamie…what are we pestling for?!!). But I’d be a perfect “administration liaison manager at (insert name of times top 100 company here)” you tell yourself as you trawl through application after application. You become a pro at reciting your GCSE grades, the addresses of companies you worked for 5 years ago; the “name a time when you were challenged” examples going round in your head as you try to sleep! Now. Now is a time when I have been challenged at work in that it is challenging to not have a job.

The few supportive friends who are willing to listen to the bemoans of unemployed life tell you “chin up mate, it’s a bad time to look for work at the mo cos it’s a day that ends in a ‘y’, something will come up…any day now” and they’re right! Of course they’re  right, but some days you wish they weren’t, because that might be the final push to pursue something left field, something more fulfilling and something you can be a tiny bit proud to drag yourself out of bed for.

The hours you spend longingly looking over scrapbook photos from travels (that book took shitting ages to make!) almost depressing reminders like that bit on Bullseye where they drag out the speedboat “here’s what you could’ve won…(if you weren’t so shit at Darts, Tony from Northampton)”!  A constant reminder that the world is a bloody big place and surely there’s got to be more: bigger and better options than telling the yourself you’ve always wanted to work in accounts?! *cue that song Belle sings in the opening credits of Beauty and the Beast…..full brass band…wind machine” etc etc.

The blogs been lacking, because after a point the days merged into one, is it Tuesday is it Saturday? Is it morning is it afternoon? (lol obviously not morning…why get up before lunch when you’re unemployed!). It got shit because I ran out of fun stuff to write about (need we be reminded of that shocking one I did about how I like sports… #wheresmypulitzer) so I’ve decided from today, I’m just gunna find stuff in the having nothing to write about, the having no exciting plans…christ knows there’s enough comedy in my recent visits to the Job Centre to write a whole bloody sitcom so no point moping, this will just have to do!

A wise philosopher of our generation once said “You just have to accept that some days you are the pigeon, and some days you are the statue.” – David Brent, The Office.

This week I realised that he’s right. There are good days, there are bad days. Some days you’ll get shit on and some days you’ll be on top of the world. So, what really is there to lose? Hold your breath, jump in and swim for your bloody life until you succeed (or a super hot lifeguard who is a part time human rights lawyer and spends 6 months a year in the Maldives rescues you and you can live happily ever after that way…..)

So here I am going for it, if Zoella bloomin Benjamin or whatever her name is can do it, then why can’t I?…and if I fall flat on my face, well, at least ‘You’ve been framed’ will give me £250!! Wish me luck (and follow me on this, and like my Facebook page and whatever else I’m going to make you support in the next few days. Thanks then. Bye) xx