Poulets

So it seems I finally landed another job.

I’m far from elated; it’s certainly a relief.

A chicken factory in Cambuslang means as much time spent commuting as when I worked in a fish factory in Queenslie, as dull kind of work, and from the one shift I’ve already had apparently much less hurry but much more Polish. There are only five eight-hour shifts a week, which implies a reasonable amount of spare time notwithstanding the commuting, and only back shifts (my preferred kind) for me; it also means I’ll have to get by (after tax, rent &c) on eight quid a day.

Which is negotiable, at least until my stock of fags is depleted; but it wouldn’t pay to stop looking for something better. Still, it’s a living; the danger of ending up on the street seems deferred again.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s