Earning a wage in London

As the rain poured down onto my glass window rooftop loft room in Battersea, it was apparent that the holiday was over and it was time to get back into working life.

It’s been a great test of character and inner belief to apply for jobs in this city. You find yourself doubting whether you have the skills.

I’ll set the scene of jobs in London.

Imagine there are thousands of chocolate bars on the shelves in front of you.

There are only a dozen or so on the bottom of the shelf. You have to bend down and extend your arm to get them, but they are there.

Then there are the delicious ones staring right at you, but the only way you can get one is by asking the chocolate gatekeepers.

The chocolate gatekeepers don’t mind which chocolate you end up with, so long as they serve you, because they get commission for every sale they make. Some of them are nice and will make sure you get the chocolate you ask for, but others just give you any old chocolate. Chocolate is chocolate right?

I had never actually come across professional recruiters until I came to London.

Yes, I had heard of Manpower and actually had a small stint at a recruitment agency doing their paperwork, but this is a functioning industry all by itself and in another league.

Google stood by my side, suggesting recruiter sites, job opportunities and used it’s amazing power to also encourage me to book that Amsterdam trip I looked up the week before.

Google and I have signed a BFF contract. He serves me well.

The three weekly post review stats:

  • three recruiter interviews
  • thirteen recruiters ‘sourcing’ jobs for me
  • six re-drafts of my resume
  • two resumes
  • three cover letters
  • four interviews
  • six shortlists

For every job interview, I was asked to complete a task relating to some fundraising analogy they’d created.

In total, I spent around six hours completing these tasks and six hours researching the organisations.

It’s been exhausting, but it’s paid off.

 

I was offered two jobs in two days, after three weeks of work.

I fist pumped the air.

I then had a profound realisation on the power of my mind.

I am skilled.

I am dedicated.

I am worthy.

These thoughts need to be played on loop, like a pianola when you wallow in your doubt.

Don’t lose sight of those Peanut Butter Reece’s Pieces if you really want them.

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