I’ve been thinking a lot lately about work, and what we’re all actually chasing.

A friend of mine was recently made redundant after fifteen years with the same company. She's in her mid-50s, a time notoriously hard for women to find work. But she's got a good reputation - she's excellent at her job, loyal, hard-working, team player, expert. She shouldn't have trouble getting more work, so she took the payout and figured she’d do a bit of contract work while she looked for something permanent.

What she didn’t expect was the absolute insanity of the modern job market. Every job gets 200 or 300 applications now because AI has made it so easy to apply. People can fire off tailored cover letters in seconds. So the genuinely thoughtful applications — the ones someone has actually sat down and written carefully — just disappear into the pile with everything else. What's the point? She’s spending hours writing proper applications, and still barely getting seen.

As she said, it’s not what you know anymore, but it's who you know. It's down to networks, connections, visibility, timing.

I kinda like her unemployed, to be fair - she’s actually become happier, calmer, and her sense of humour's back. Our relationship has deepened, for the first time in years and years. She’s more relaxed, present, herself.

It's this loss of self that has had me reject a full-time job since I left my full time, insanely demanding teaching job. But it's more than that - the thought of interviews makes my blood run cold. Truly. I feel physically sick thinking about it. I’d probably end up crying in front of them from pure anxiety, which I've been known to do before, even though I should be confident, and I know I'm excellent at my job - I just don’t interview well.

So instead, I keep doing agency teaching, or rather, I just sign up for work each term with the one school, which suits me. I make good money when I’m working. If I don’t want to go in one day, I don’t. If I’m exhausted, I rest, even though I'm trying hard to make hay whilst the sun shines. There’s freedom in it, even without sick pay or holidays.

Years ago, temporary work felt transitional, like an unserious stopgap before “real work.” But now, for so many people, it is the work. My friend said even contract work has changed completely. You don’t go through agencies anymore but compete online with hundreds of applicants for short-term contracts too.

The whole landscape shifted while she wasn't looking. It's exhausting - I'd be freaking out, if I needed money that badly - I don't know why she's that calm.

I hate it and I'm glad I'm at the end of my hustle. I'm debt free so I don't need to worry. The idea of looking for work is a nightmare for me. It's not just just the work itself, but by the performance of work where you're constantly trying to sell yourself and prove yourself, brand yourself via Linked In, The constant proving. Selling yourself. Branding yourself. Interviewing, optimising, competing and smiling through anxiety while pretending this all feels a normal human experience.

I don’t dream of being rich anymore, if I ever did. I don’t need a luxury car or a giant house or some hyper-productive empire. I just want enough money to live, enough to pay the bills, have a bit of freedom, maybe work a couple of days a week doing something useful, and spend the rest of my time actually living my life. Now that's my kind of ambition.

Because the older I get, the more I realise the people who seem richest to me are the ones who have time. I look at the older people at the beach with their energy, laughter, chilled out nervous systems. That seems like success to me.

Meanwhile, my friend stays on the work vision, squirelling away for retirement. We could be dead tomorrow. Fuck that.

With Love,

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