Numbers

0.1%

Those are officially my chances of finding a job.

Impressive, isn't it. 

I made this highly motivating discovery after a little research on s1jobs.com, one of the biggest online recruitment sites for Scotland.

Out of the 4526 jobs advertised on the site today, 25% were in Edinburgh and the Lothians, my area. Not bad, you may think. And you'd be right, that's 463 jobs, after all.

But here's where it goes pear-shaped.

image credit: 

writeitdownith.wordpress.com

 As a lone parent with a school-aged child, it isn't practical to work full-time hours. If I did, it would mean putting B into afterschool care 4 or 5 days a week, and paying for 4 or 5 days of afterschool care. It would also mean a very tired child who I only saw to put him to bed at the end of the day. That's not the reason I became a parent.

And so, searching for part-time hours only, this number dives swiftly to a paltry 71 jobs.

That's only 6% of Edinburgh jobs. And only 1.5% of all Scotland jobs.

What happened to all these part-time jobs which are supposed to be on the rise in these times of financial crisis? As employers can no longer afford full-time hours and more and more people take part-time roles because full-time jobs aren't available? It doesn't seem to be that way, not on this evidence.

Before this depressing situation forced me to slam my laptop down in disgust, I added an additional layer to my search. Uh oh.

When I search for jobs I could potentially actually DO (quite important, I think?!), the number tumbles down to a meager 10 jobs. 10 jobs out of a total 4526. That's 0.2% of jobs.

Taking an initial look at the specific jobs, I can quickly rule out 5 more, so that's just 5 jobs.

0.1%

And I know that many part-time jobs specify the hours they need worked, which don't fit within school hours, so I expect another couple of jobs could be scored out. I didn't even work this bit out, though, I'd had enough by this point. And I need all the free time I have to apply for the huge number of available jobs I found. Yeah, right.

Back in those ignorant, care-free pre-child days, the oft-repeated plan for the future was once kid/s were in school, we'd find a part-time job that fitted in with school hours. Not a problem, loads of parent manage it. But this just isn't possible, it's not realistic. Even with a couple of days of afterschool care, it is still impossible to find a job, let alone one that fits in with the limited hours available during school hours, when you don't have a second parent to take up the slack.

So it's back to the search next week, and if there's 0.1% of jobs i can apply for, this will be a good week.

#R2BC - Lesson learned

I have deliberately waited a day before joining in this week's #R2BC.

Yesterday would not have been a good day to find Reasons to be cheerful...
For overly-dramatic details, read What the hell was I thinking? Part I and Part II.

The short version -
I signed up to a 'luxury new kitchen' after meeting with a charming Design Sales Consultant, who I didn't think at the time was giving me the heavy sell. I went into the visit making it very clear I had no intention of signing anything immediately. But besides the fact that, as much as I would like a better kitchen, I really can't afford it right now, I still signed up to it - after 2 visits and 5 hours of chat. That was yesterday.

Today, after much self-chastisement, I have set the wheels in motion to cancel said agreement, and once the confirmation of the cancellation comes through next week, I will be able breathe a huge sigh of relief. And so, although it's not all official yet, I do feel a bit less panicky and a little more cheerful (although cries of "You Fool!" regularly still ring in my ears).

So a short #R2BC this week, but a big lesson learned!

What are your Reasons to be Cheerful this week?

What the hell was I thinking? Part II

(Read Part I for an overly-dramatic explanation...)

Well, having 'slept on it', I felt a bit calmer and not quite so dramatic about the situation this morning when I woke. A little vino last night did the trick to calm me a bit before bed (don't worry, I mean 'a little', I didn't neck the whole bottle or anything!). And surprisingly, I didn't end up having nightmares of monsters sales people or being unable to escape from my kitchen.

I was still a bit nervy, and feeling equally foolish and embarrassed at not having the strength to say no and sleeping on it before I signed on the dotted line yesterday. A pleasant walk to school in the sunshine this morning (yes, no rain! hurrah!) helped clear the head a bit as well, and I 'girded my loins' before picking up the phone to cancel.

A few anti-climactic minutes later, job done, with no persuading or prodding or questioning on their part as to my reasons for cancellation. I do need to send it in writing to them, which I will be doing today recorded delivery, and until I get confirmation from them that they've received the cancellation, I don't think I be able to completely put it behind me. Scratch that, I know that even once I've got that confirmation, I will be mulling over for a while just why I signed it, when I went into the whole thing knowing I didn't want to sign anything there and then. I could blame the sales tactics entirely, which were not heavy-handed, much more subtle - but obviously equally successful! But they are only partly the reason. I am an intelligent, fairly savvy person who knew what she wanted and who is not afraid of saying no, and yet I still signed.  And because I don't understand why I still signed, it will continue to make me feel quite uncomfortable for a wee while.

What the hell was I thinking? Part I

I did something today I said I would not do when I woke up this morning. I signed up to something I promised myself I wouldn't. Not because I don't want it, but because I didn't want to be 'one of those poor schmucks' who signs their bank balance away without taking the appropriate time to think it through properly. 

I think of myself as being fairly savvy about sales tactics and cold calling and the like. I have seen 'Don't get Done, Get Dom', after all... But I obviously no nowt.

image credit: weheartit.com

I am so utterly ashamed and disgusted at myself right now. I can't even bring myself to write exactly what happened. I'll say 'home improvements' and leave it at that. I was determined the appointment today would be a curiosity only. As much as I would like the improvements, I really can't afford to sign up to lengthy repayment plans right now. There's no reason I should have done so. Thinking back, I don't feel the sales person led me on, or told me untruths, or anything like that. So I can't even explain why I did it. Maybe because I felt I was in control of the situation because it was in my home? I don't know. I obviously convinced myself I could afford it.

Which makes it all the more frustrating and shameful that I did it. Compounded by my current reaction to it, which actually made me feel sick earlier. It was that moment of panic when I realised what I had done - as if I didn't know what I was doing at the time, of course I did! 

O my god, what the hell was I thinking?!

There is a cooling off period to the contract, I did check that much. So I will be on the phone tomorrow to cancel. I am already worrying about the call, about their response and attempts to dissuade me from cancellation, and about making sure the cancellation actually goes through within the time limit.

I don't think I'll get much sleep tonight. I will be indulging in a little glass of vino tinto to calm my stupidly self-inflicted nerves.

Lesson learned, I hope.

Part II tomorrow, hopefully with good news!

Words

Before B started school, a short nine months ago, I worried, unnecessarily of course, but like most first-time*  mummies. I worried he didn't know enough letters, or recognise enough sounds, and he'd struggle in school, and be behind his peers, and, and, and...

(I didn't have similar worries about maths, for he is a maths genius, if I do say so myself...)

So imagine my delight these nine months later, when my worries have been blown out the water, completely unwarranted and unfounded.

He loves literacy lessons, gets excited when he gets new sounds, or common words.
He reads signs, posters, book covers, dvd boxes, backs of buses, anything, in fact, that he can.
He makes up nonsense words, because he knows they're nonsense words, not because he doesn't know any better.
He loves hearing silly poems and rhymes, as well as not-so-silly ones - he cut his little pinky finger the other day, and it reminded me of a Scots poem called The Sair Finger I remember having to recite in school, probably when I was not much older than B. It starts off like this:

You've hurt your finger? Puir wee man!

Your pinkie? Deary me!

Noo, jist you haud it that wey till

I get my specs and see!
I recited it to B, and he loved it, and now I have to recite it to him at least 3 times a day.

He even came home today and asked "how do you say 'hello' in China?" 

I said, "I don't know"

He said, "I do. You say ni hao".
Smarty pants.

My boy, maths genius and linguaphile.

(*and probably only-time mummy ...but that's a different story)

Linking up this post with Just Write at The EO 

and 5 for 5 at Momalom