Im 26, and my wife keeps telling me Ive got an issue I wont admit. She brings it up every time I leave a job or get fired. She says its not normal that the longest Ive ever stayed somewhere is six months. Shes got a point. Sometimes I last a month, sometimes only a couple of weeks, sometimes I dont even make it through probation. Ive done all sorts of work maintenance, cleaning, sweeping streets, scrubbing toilets, carrying stock in warehouses. I start off eager, but after a few days the weight hits me both physically and mentally.
Its not just exhaustion. Sometimes its shame. I left school before finishing my A-levels, barely scraping by in the lower sixth. I never went back. Whenever I start work like this and they hand me a hi-vis jacket, a broom or a mop bucket, I feel like I dont belong. I look at my colleagues resigned, just getting on with their jobs without complaint and deep inside, I think: this cant be my life. So I start turning up late, slacking, finding excuses to miss shifts. Eventually, one day, I get that call into the office and they tell me not to come back.
My wife doesnt get it. Shes been working at a shop for four years now. She doesnt earn much, but its steady. Every month, she knows exactly how much shell take home. When I come back again without a job, she looks at me with anger and exhaustion. She says, Its not the work, its you. You cant stick anything out. I tell her those jobs arent right for me, Im made for more, I wasnt born to scrub toilets for the rest of my life.
That winds her up even more. She tells me to go finish school, find a course, pick up a trade. She says no ones going to hire me for other things if I havent even got a diploma. I tell her Ill do it, but month after month goes by and I never sign up. Theres always some excuse no money, no time, Ill do it later. The truth is, Im scared to go back to school as an adult, sit next to younger people, feel left behind.
At home, its become the norm. We argue about the same thing every time. She says I live in dreams, I talk big but I dont actually do anything. I tell her shes settled, got used to surviving instead of actually living. Sometimes we yell. Sometimes we dont speak for days. I go out, clutching my folded CV, looking for work again, coming home disappointed when they say, Well get back to you.
The hardest part is, I honestly do dream. I dream about having my own business, about not having to rely on anyone, about not being embarrassed by my uniform. I dream of waking up early for something thats truly mine, not to be bossed around. But dreams dont pay rent or put food on the table. She reminds me of it every single day.
Do I really have an issue Im refusing to recognise, or do I simply have the right to hope for something bigger?
