Diary of a redundant writer: Day two

This is just going to be a quick one because I’ve just seen the time! Not that I need a reasonable bedtime now that I’m ‘superfluous’. 

It’s the end of my second day of redundancy. I cleared out our spare room, dismantled my drum kit and piled it on top of the wardrobes to make space for a desk. Now I have a nice little make-shift office…

diary of a redundant writer

I put some of my text books from uni on the shelf behind me to make it feel more officy and remind myself that I used to have a purpose.

My guinea pigs live in this room too so I’ve felt a bit like I’m in a nature documentary all day, as if I’m in a hide watching what really goes on in the animal kingdom behind closed doors. They don’t do much to be honest. The life of a guinea pig seems to be quite pleasant. Nap, eat, strut around the cage making rumbling noises, eat, nap, run about, squeak. Like a rodent version of the Fatboy Slim song. No office politics here, or altercations about who’s turn it is to make tea (it’s always mine) lazy bastards.

 

panda and valentino-01

In other news, I have an interview with the job centre tomorrow. How depressing having to go through that old rigmarole again. Last time I signed up for the dole I was advised to make a second CV, this time omitting my English degree and journalism accreditation, focusing instead on all the valuable housekeeping experience I have. Not that I’m against working in hotels again, I always found it quietly pleasing rifling through people’s stuff. I just can’t quite remember why I spent the best part of £30,000 on my education…

Anyway, sleep time. Thanks for reading!