Labour of Love

Temporary work has dried up.

I’ve contacted the agency and they say it’s one of those things. They say it'll change.

There are some, I’m sure, who’d tell me I’m lucky not to be working at the moment. I should count my blessings. True, I’m spending quality time with loved ones - a rare treat. My PGCE is on the horizon and the weather is divine.

Nevertheless, those who say I’m lucky to be in this position are probably the same people who’d flippantly advise any employee candid enough to admit to being bullied in work that they should just quit or sign on until they get a better job.

The reality is tougher. I defy anyone to be unemployed for a spell and not feel excluded. I’m confused by my enforced holiday. I give myself pep talks. I tell myself I’m a good secretary and the lack of temporary work is a blip. It’s only been a matter of weeks, but my self-esteem is already taking a nose dive. I’m worried about finances.  I wonder why, with all my willingness to join in and contribute, I’m often sidelined.

What would I do without my blog and Twitter? As was the case when I worked for Howard, they prove that my contribution can be worthwhile and reciprocated.   

The fear of unemployment is, naturally, what workplace bullies capitalise on. Of course they do. It’s the worst case scenario. Unemployment is the ultimate marginalisation.

So if you’re being bullied and someone says: ‘Just walk out’, then stop listening right there. They’ve obviously never been bullied at their firm and/or had a spell out of work. Your unemployment will likely satisfy your bully. You need to find another job. This isn't easy in a recession, granted, but you must make it a labour of love to find a job where you’re wholly appreciated.

I won’t give up if you don’t.

Very best

BBTB