Six Months in South Wales.
The water is different here and there are mountains at the edge of the sky. That’s what sticks in my head when people back home ask what it’s like here. When I left Berlin six months ago I thought I would find a job quickly enough but that’s not been the case.
I’ve forgotten what it’s like to see money coming into my account but that’s not a problem as such. I’ve never been rich but I’ve always afford my life somehow. Security and comfort are not the same as greed and I think a happiness distilled from possession and the accumulation of “X” comforts only a fool but still…I’d quite like to be working now. Not working at first was a blessing, it wore off quickly enough and then became a novelty and now it is a nothingness. At the Jobcentre my advisor mutely initials a pair of boxes before indicating that I should do the same. That’s my week over, I can go. I’ll apply for more jobs when I get home. It’s over 300 now and counting. I’m educated, experienced and have good references but apparently no luck. That’s just life I suppose. I’ll keep on going because it’s just a phase. That’s what everyone tells me anyway.