Category: Life

Just a quick update.

I went to the induction for my new job. 3 hours of signing off on papers you haven’t read and ticking all the H&S boxes. They have changed the pay structure, 50p per hour more, no overtime rate. Just done a quick calculation, say 52½ hour week, take off ½ hour per day for break, so 50 hours. Old rate, £520, new rate £515. And it used to be more for Saturday, plus time and a third for any overtime, that’s now flat rate as well. Sundays are £14, flat rate.

They wouldn’t have changed it if it didn’t cost them less.

I’ve had enough of nights and the uncertainty of agency work. I’ve applied for the full time, days, job at Hermes. I have my induction on Monday. I did the maths, it’s been exactly half a year and I took home £11,856. If you take off the two weeks I would have had as holidays if I’d been PAYE it’s an average of £420 p/w take home. Hermes are promising a minimum of 45 hours per week, with thing like time and a third for anything over 8 hours, overtime more or less written into the job, extra for working weekend shifts, etc. I reckon on a 50 hour week I’ll be taking home at least the same. Plus it’s days. And I can take holidays. If you lose a week’s pay you just end up working and working. I think I’ve had two weeks holiday in the two and a half years I’ve been self employed/ Limited Company. I’ve had months, in total, sat around unpaid waiting for work, but that isn’t a holiday. You can’t relax, you can’t do anything, plan anything, or afford anything.

If I wanted serious big bucks they have the option of a pound an hour more for nights, plus another pound or so for Limited Company, so you earn more and get stopped less tax, but that’s the same shit I’m in now.

I’m willing to trade pound per hour for day shift and secure hours per week.

I’m using that as a metaphor, btw. I find it fascinating that one cannot remember pain. You remember the sweats, the swearing, thinking death would be a mercy, but you can’t remember what the pain felt like.

So it was with crashing my lovely, lovely motorcycle.

Not the pain (metaphor remember? Pay attention at the back.) but the feeling of being fully alive. I’d forgotten. Or rather remembered as one remembers pain. I took it as a truism, that while “the prospect of being hanged focuses the mind wonderfully” it is nothing like as focusing as the reality of imminent pain and possibly sudden, violent death.

Still loving my bike.

It is bloody lovely. After I’d blogged last time I thought of a few things I should have added. For one thing I do seem to have learned restraint. In the past I’d tootle along until someone was in my way then I’d blast past them. And the one in front of them. I was a Pringle overtaker, once I’d popped I just couldn’t stop. Until Mr Plod had a word or I was picking the remains of my bike up. It was great fun, but not conducive to long periods of safe motorcycling. Anyway, I said about finding the torque-y part of the rev range on the same ride as I came off the motorway a BMW tried to pass me on the inside. I was feeling a bit sporty so I held him off. Then we came up behind an artic (bastard lorry drivers!) and I thought “let’s see you do this, sunshine”, I could have blasted down the separation zone, the foot or so wide bit painted down the middle to keep the traffic apart. This would have left me with millimetres to spare if a lorry had turned up the other way. This would not have even been a consideration before, I would have shot past and any potential oncoming traffic would have to make way or kill me.

I di the unthinkable; I dropped off the revs and sat behind the lorry! Nothing came the other way, so I could have done it, but strangely I didn’t care.

Just a quick one to say all is well and better than.

Last week I was on the verge of quitting my super-duper job and going back to a mass stress, treated like shit one that provided regular hours. I’d had three shifts the week before, one shift that week. I was giving it until the end of this week then applying. Then I had five days on the trot working. This week, the last three days, have been long hours. I’m on for a £600- £700 week this week. I was looking at £800 plus but they stood me down yesterday. Apparently the Southern depot start doing the spud runs to Cornwall from now so they are maxed-out doing that, meaning loads of work for everyone else. And then it’s the holiday season, so the driver I was talking to reckons there will be work aplenty for the next three months. That will do nicely.

I love this job but I needed more work. And here it is. Yay!