Owooooga! Long Winded Post Warning
What do you get if you put me in a train for five hours with a laptop ...
You get an awfully long winded and rather self indulgent posting about recent events, which some of you may or may not be aware of.
It is unusual I find to meet people that are actually interested in
being helpful. The vast majority of people merely live their lives, not
so much focused on their own desires and wishes, as generally unaware
that there may be alternative points of view. Selfish is too harsh a
word as it involves some form of intent. What we are discussing is
merely overwhelming stupidity when it comes to accepting other people.
I generally ask little of people, finding that giving is far easier than
receiving. The trouble with generosity I find is that whilst on the
receiving end of it one is never entirely sure of the motives.
As some of you may, or may not be aware I recently started a new job,
the previous one going rather sour and unfortunately in the end.
Whether this new career will turn out for the best is as yet
undetermined. Still more of that later.
The main problem I have received recently is the trouble acquiring
somewhere to live, a simple enough task you may feel. However with the
usual relish that the universe applies to me in the situations, things
turned out more complicated than I had originally planned.
My previous employment had come to an abrupt end, leaving me ill from
stress, jobless, homeless, running up debts and as the icing on the cake
underpaid by the tune of nearly two thousand pounds.
I'm not going to attribute blame, although I personally feel that there
may indeed be some to throw around the place. The situation whilst
unfortunate, and perhaps unavoidable could have been handled with far
more grace and elegance. Indeed if life is merely a string of events
for us to learn from then at least the termination of my two years in
Scotland served some purpose. Lessons learnt involve several forays
into trust and courtesy, however by far the most prominent lesson learnt
is the simple difference that communication makes.
I have, for a long time had a firm belief that the core of humanity,
it's greatest asset is it's ability to express itself, emotionally and
intellectually. Either through speech, song, dance, painting whatever..
I don't think that these facts are in dispute, but I believe that the
part of us that comes closest to divinity is that part that expresses
itself as a reflection of those around us. When we deliberately descend
to selfishness, or self preservation we loose the main aspect of our
humanity. It was this that went missing in Scotland.
Honesty comes into this, I was taught that honesty was the best policy,
and it is I suppose because of this seemingly ``British'' up bringing
that I find myself at such a loss for words. Basically I was lied to,
by people of whom I expected better. Whether this is because of a
simple difference in underlying philosophy or something else is perhaps
a better question. I am a natural pessimist, and perhaps the
instigators of this event were optimists. Whatever the intent, I was
told things that I believed. I am now in serious doubt as to whether my
ability to ``trust'' someone else will recover. It wasn't that strong
to start with.
Anyhow, these matters aside I moved to Southampton where my new
employers graciously offered to put me up in a hotel for a fortnight
whilst I went about the process of sorting out somewhere to live. A
rather simple task, and one that had taken all of a week when I moved to
Scotland.
This time however I knew that the recent events in my life would have a
reflection on the process. I was perhaps unaware of how serious an
impact they would have.
In short, I managed within the first week to navigate through the usual
whimsy, denial, tears, heartbreak, unrealistic expectations and
pipedreams that house hunting involves and find somewhere that was
reasonable, and more importantly affordable.
Living in a hotel was fun, however I was practically penniless prior to
moving to Southampton. A week of takeaway food later had drained my
resources further, and frankly finding somewhere I could afford the
deposit and a months rent upfront was daunting, if not actually
difficult.
I found, and applied for a flat on Monday. The forms were sent to a
large letting agent helping company on Tuesday morning. I won't
mention the firm here, as that would only serve to somehow leave myself
open to further misery. The company in question serves a rather vague
purpose when it comes to leasing property. They basically read the
form, perform a credit check on the prospective client and then say yay,
or nay accordingly.
On Thursday I received notification that my application was OK, subject
to them contacting my prior employers (and my current ones) to make sure
that I wasn't lying when I claimed to have been employed. The new
employers presented no real difficulty and the appropriate form had been
completed and returned some 5 minutes after it arrived. The old
employers I realised might prove somewhat more complicated.
However, in discussion with the company in question I arranged for my
mother to spend most of the afternoon getting P45's, P60's, Payslips and
the like faxed to them, whilst I (rather frantically) attempted to get
contact with the old management.
Mother performed excellently, and I even managed to get one of the
directors of the old company to send an appropriate fax, on appropriate
headed notepaper to the evil beast in this saga.
I then received a call early Friday afternoon declaring that I required
a guarantor on the premise that I had been unemployed for more than 14
days in the last six months. A detail I might hasten to add that had
been presented to them on the original form they received Tuesday
morning.
The reasons for this ``denial'' were simple enough. I was informed that
there was a blanket rule that anyone whom had remained unemployed for
any reason for more than 14 days in the last six months was
automatically denied.
My first issue therefore was a matter of what I perceive to be a
reasonable expectation. Regardless of the simple fact that my extended
period of unemployment was partially deliberate, mostly to avoid
antagonising the agents and landlord (who had been extremely
understanding) I found it very difficult to understand such a harsh cut
off point.
In my experience, in the computer industry I find that the idea of being
able to find a suitable position, apply, have that application reviewed,
be granted a telephone interview, have that interview reviewed, attend a
proper interview, have that interview approved, be notified of a success
and then actually start work within 14 days unlikely, if not actually
laughable. Since leaving university it has generally been regarded
that the ``uptime'' of finding a new job is around three months in this,
and many other industries. Additionally, if you consider that had I
been forced to find accommodation prior to starting work, and that at
the eventual time taken by said company to complete my application was
twelve days, then the actual time for someone to find work is somewhat
unlikely.
Anyhow, I sat down (at work) and sighed quite heavily. My offer to send
said company photo's of myself grovelling and of the park bench I would
soon be forced to sleep on whilst making the girl at the other end of
the telephone (and my boss) giggle quite pleasingly had otherwise fallen
on deaf ears.
Remember this is Friday, I was due to leave the hotel on Sunday, this
mysterious company don't work weekends, and it's approaching their
closing time. I also had completely run out of resources. In my
estimation, provided I only ate the bag of wine gums I happened to have,
the pot noodle nestling in the bottom of my bag and my half tube of
Bonjella my finances would stretch to cover a further two evenings in
the hotel before they ran out completely.
I made my excuses, went to the bathroom and cried.
Returning, to the dilemma a friend of mine, Neil Brownlee graciously
offered himself forward as a guarantor, as did Tim Burt and the company
itself showed willingness to do similar, if being a little reluctant to
enter into effectively a six-month contract with someone still on the
second week of a three-month probation. For a variety of reasons, Neil
was then asked to provide the required documentation, which he did
quickly, efficiently and most importantly of all, happily. Words
cannot express the gratitude I feel for Neil at this moment, he through
an act of selflessness set about ending one of the most stressful
chapters in my life. It perhaps was only a kind and supportive word,
but at that moment a kind and supportive word was all I needed.
I then set about sorting out the remainder of my problems, or at least
the financial ones. Clearly living on a bag of wine gums, some gum
ointment and a pot noodle was somewhat unrealistic for four days. This
time I rang my brother, a man of few words generally. However he is,
was, and always will be the person that I run to when I need family. A
man of few words he may be, but those words are usually chosen
carefully. After listening to my plight, and so on he asked a simple
question. ``how much?'', who could ask for more?
I returned to the hotel on Friday evening with my heart in my shoes, but
hopeful that whilst I would be left near crippled financially by this
delay, friends and family were willing to put themselves forward to pull
me out of the quagmire my inaction and flapping in Scotland had gotten
me into. I sat on the bed, in silence, in darkness and for the first
time in a long, long time, in simple gratitude and respect for the
actions of these individuals.
Monday and Tuesday went as I anticipated, and the company ceased their
delaying tactics and I was finally able to move into my small,
unfurnished, but otherwise pleasant flat on Tuesday evening.
It wasn't until later that I finally placed a label on my troubles. It
boils down to those actions I discussed earlier, gratitude and
communication. All of my recent troubles have been entirely man made.
The situations themselves come from a simple unwillingness to provide
understanding that people, all people are the same. We deserve the same
respect, honesty and help that we would like to receive. Most of my
problems were exasperated by a deliberate effort. Time and money were
applied to producing rules that stood in my way, hampered my progress
and made my life frankly not worth living. The intended purpose for
these actions, certainly the reasoning for the policies themselves is
unlikely to be a vindictive and vicious attack on yours truly. However,
it perhaps proves that in some ways the humanity, the emotion and the
people have been stripped out of the world. I'm not certain the world
could survive without people, but you do have to ask the question.
Precisely who is the world, as it stands designed to serve? It wouldn't
appear to be me, or anyone else that I know.
Curious really isn't it?
You get an awfully long winded and rather self indulgent posting about recent events, which some of you may or may not be aware of.
It is unusual I find to meet people that are actually interested in
being helpful. The vast majority of people merely live their lives, not
so much focused on their own desires and wishes, as generally unaware
that there may be alternative points of view. Selfish is too harsh a
word as it involves some form of intent. What we are discussing is
merely overwhelming stupidity when it comes to accepting other people.
I generally ask little of people, finding that giving is far easier than
receiving. The trouble with generosity I find is that whilst on the
receiving end of it one is never entirely sure of the motives.
As some of you may, or may not be aware I recently started a new job,
the previous one going rather sour and unfortunately in the end.
Whether this new career will turn out for the best is as yet
undetermined. Still more of that later.
The main problem I have received recently is the trouble acquiring
somewhere to live, a simple enough task you may feel. However with the
usual relish that the universe applies to me in the situations, things
turned out more complicated than I had originally planned.
My previous employment had come to an abrupt end, leaving me ill from
stress, jobless, homeless, running up debts and as the icing on the cake
underpaid by the tune of nearly two thousand pounds.
I'm not going to attribute blame, although I personally feel that there
may indeed be some to throw around the place. The situation whilst
unfortunate, and perhaps unavoidable could have been handled with far
more grace and elegance. Indeed if life is merely a string of events
for us to learn from then at least the termination of my two years in
Scotland served some purpose. Lessons learnt involve several forays
into trust and courtesy, however by far the most prominent lesson learnt
is the simple difference that communication makes.
I have, for a long time had a firm belief that the core of humanity,
it's greatest asset is it's ability to express itself, emotionally and
intellectually. Either through speech, song, dance, painting whatever..
I don't think that these facts are in dispute, but I believe that the
part of us that comes closest to divinity is that part that expresses
itself as a reflection of those around us. When we deliberately descend
to selfishness, or self preservation we loose the main aspect of our
humanity. It was this that went missing in Scotland.
Honesty comes into this, I was taught that honesty was the best policy,
and it is I suppose because of this seemingly ``British'' up bringing
that I find myself at such a loss for words. Basically I was lied to,
by people of whom I expected better. Whether this is because of a
simple difference in underlying philosophy or something else is perhaps
a better question. I am a natural pessimist, and perhaps the
instigators of this event were optimists. Whatever the intent, I was
told things that I believed. I am now in serious doubt as to whether my
ability to ``trust'' someone else will recover. It wasn't that strong
to start with.
Anyhow, these matters aside I moved to Southampton where my new
employers graciously offered to put me up in a hotel for a fortnight
whilst I went about the process of sorting out somewhere to live. A
rather simple task, and one that had taken all of a week when I moved to
Scotland.
This time however I knew that the recent events in my life would have a
reflection on the process. I was perhaps unaware of how serious an
impact they would have.
In short, I managed within the first week to navigate through the usual
whimsy, denial, tears, heartbreak, unrealistic expectations and
pipedreams that house hunting involves and find somewhere that was
reasonable, and more importantly affordable.
Living in a hotel was fun, however I was practically penniless prior to
moving to Southampton. A week of takeaway food later had drained my
resources further, and frankly finding somewhere I could afford the
deposit and a months rent upfront was daunting, if not actually
difficult.
I found, and applied for a flat on Monday. The forms were sent to a
large letting agent helping company on Tuesday morning. I won't
mention the firm here, as that would only serve to somehow leave myself
open to further misery. The company in question serves a rather vague
purpose when it comes to leasing property. They basically read the
form, perform a credit check on the prospective client and then say yay,
or nay accordingly.
On Thursday I received notification that my application was OK, subject
to them contacting my prior employers (and my current ones) to make sure
that I wasn't lying when I claimed to have been employed. The new
employers presented no real difficulty and the appropriate form had been
completed and returned some 5 minutes after it arrived. The old
employers I realised might prove somewhat more complicated.
However, in discussion with the company in question I arranged for my
mother to spend most of the afternoon getting P45's, P60's, Payslips and
the like faxed to them, whilst I (rather frantically) attempted to get
contact with the old management.
Mother performed excellently, and I even managed to get one of the
directors of the old company to send an appropriate fax, on appropriate
headed notepaper to the evil beast in this saga.
I then received a call early Friday afternoon declaring that I required
a guarantor on the premise that I had been unemployed for more than 14
days in the last six months. A detail I might hasten to add that had
been presented to them on the original form they received Tuesday
morning.
The reasons for this ``denial'' were simple enough. I was informed that
there was a blanket rule that anyone whom had remained unemployed for
any reason for more than 14 days in the last six months was
automatically denied.
My first issue therefore was a matter of what I perceive to be a
reasonable expectation. Regardless of the simple fact that my extended
period of unemployment was partially deliberate, mostly to avoid
antagonising the agents and landlord (who had been extremely
understanding) I found it very difficult to understand such a harsh cut
off point.
In my experience, in the computer industry I find that the idea of being
able to find a suitable position, apply, have that application reviewed,
be granted a telephone interview, have that interview reviewed, attend a
proper interview, have that interview approved, be notified of a success
and then actually start work within 14 days unlikely, if not actually
laughable. Since leaving university it has generally been regarded
that the ``uptime'' of finding a new job is around three months in this,
and many other industries. Additionally, if you consider that had I
been forced to find accommodation prior to starting work, and that at
the eventual time taken by said company to complete my application was
twelve days, then the actual time for someone to find work is somewhat
unlikely.
Anyhow, I sat down (at work) and sighed quite heavily. My offer to send
said company photo's of myself grovelling and of the park bench I would
soon be forced to sleep on whilst making the girl at the other end of
the telephone (and my boss) giggle quite pleasingly had otherwise fallen
on deaf ears.
Remember this is Friday, I was due to leave the hotel on Sunday, this
mysterious company don't work weekends, and it's approaching their
closing time. I also had completely run out of resources. In my
estimation, provided I only ate the bag of wine gums I happened to have,
the pot noodle nestling in the bottom of my bag and my half tube of
Bonjella my finances would stretch to cover a further two evenings in
the hotel before they ran out completely.
I made my excuses, went to the bathroom and cried.
Returning, to the dilemma a friend of mine, Neil Brownlee graciously
offered himself forward as a guarantor, as did Tim Burt and the company
itself showed willingness to do similar, if being a little reluctant to
enter into effectively a six-month contract with someone still on the
second week of a three-month probation. For a variety of reasons, Neil
was then asked to provide the required documentation, which he did
quickly, efficiently and most importantly of all, happily. Words
cannot express the gratitude I feel for Neil at this moment, he through
an act of selflessness set about ending one of the most stressful
chapters in my life. It perhaps was only a kind and supportive word,
but at that moment a kind and supportive word was all I needed.
I then set about sorting out the remainder of my problems, or at least
the financial ones. Clearly living on a bag of wine gums, some gum
ointment and a pot noodle was somewhat unrealistic for four days. This
time I rang my brother, a man of few words generally. However he is,
was, and always will be the person that I run to when I need family. A
man of few words he may be, but those words are usually chosen
carefully. After listening to my plight, and so on he asked a simple
question. ``how much?'', who could ask for more?
I returned to the hotel on Friday evening with my heart in my shoes, but
hopeful that whilst I would be left near crippled financially by this
delay, friends and family were willing to put themselves forward to pull
me out of the quagmire my inaction and flapping in Scotland had gotten
me into. I sat on the bed, in silence, in darkness and for the first
time in a long, long time, in simple gratitude and respect for the
actions of these individuals.
Monday and Tuesday went as I anticipated, and the company ceased their
delaying tactics and I was finally able to move into my small,
unfurnished, but otherwise pleasant flat on Tuesday evening.
It wasn't until later that I finally placed a label on my troubles. It
boils down to those actions I discussed earlier, gratitude and
communication. All of my recent troubles have been entirely man made.
The situations themselves come from a simple unwillingness to provide
understanding that people, all people are the same. We deserve the same
respect, honesty and help that we would like to receive. Most of my
problems were exasperated by a deliberate effort. Time and money were
applied to producing rules that stood in my way, hampered my progress
and made my life frankly not worth living. The intended purpose for
these actions, certainly the reasoning for the policies themselves is
unlikely to be a vindictive and vicious attack on yours truly. However,
it perhaps proves that in some ways the humanity, the emotion and the
people have been stripped out of the world. I'm not certain the world
could survive without people, but you do have to ask the question.
Precisely who is the world, as it stands designed to serve? It wouldn't
appear to be me, or anyone else that I know.
Curious really isn't it?