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I need a job.

Right at this moment, I desperately need a job.

The clock shows 2.24 in the morning and I'm looking for a job with a cup of tea in four different newspapers and around ten different internet sites. Pathetic? Maybe. But I'm desperate. Completely.

After three years of living in London, I still didn't find a job. Well, at least not one that I wanted. But right now, I would accept anything because I need the money. I'm involved in too many unpaid debts, my study is expensive and I couldn't take the exams because of not having enough money. At 22, I'm almost living on the streets.

This place that I can't even call a flat is the best thing that I can afford at this moment. I live in a very small flat, in a place, where the London streets never get quiet. My flat is three-roomed, just enough big for me and very quiet because there are only three floors in this flat complex and on every floor, there are only three flats and they're not all occupied. 

I don't have a heating and the London streets can be very cold at night, so I'm heating up my cold feet with a blanket and my shaking hands with a hot cup of tea. I also don't have any food for eating in the kitchen. I don't even remember when was the last time I've eaten a normal meal. 

In the last months, I've lost a lot of weight, plus the hunger, I was also under a lot of stress that caused not having money. Soon, I won't be able to afford this flat anymore, even though I sometimes think that it would be safer to live on the street than in this rundown building.

But this is my life and I have to accept it with open arms. My parents don't support me for a long time anymore now. Right after I moved to another country to follow my dreams, they broke all their contact with me. Even Marie, who is three years younger than me, with whom I've always had the best time, who was the only one who stood by my side, my only friend and my ally - even she doesn't want to hear for me anymore.

Truthfully, I ended up completely alone. When I moved to London three years ago, I didn't make any friends because I wanted to get to the finish line and that was it. I really wanted to study English literature. But I soon realised it's not that easy as I imagined. Very soon, my life turned upside down. I didn't have any income. My saved money quickly disappeared, there were exams after exams and there were more and more worries and sleepless nights.

When I first moved here, I lived quite well. I had a big flat, I even had a cat, named Reggie, who later died because of illness. I had a closet full of clothes and I ate expensive lunches in prestige restaurants. I wasn't sitting on the couch at half-past two in the morning, cold and in dirty, old and ripped clothes desperately looked for anything that I could do so I can survive. I had a life without worries then. And how sorry I am not that I didn't appreciate it more.

Being awake at night became a ritual. I couldn't sleep because of everything that's going on in my life, anyway. There have been a lot of nights when I just sat on the window ledge, looking at the snow-covered London streets which were illuminated by street lights. Very few people were walking on them. The ones who were, were either drunk or they were returning back home, possibly to wife or husband. I sat like that the whole night until the morning until the streets woke up and the chaos started outside. I often just watched people and guessed what life they're living.

I didn't like going out. I didn't have anything to go for. That's why I locked myself in the flat and felt sorry for myself. And when I did go out (usually for a walk or a very early run), I couldn't take the stares of people who were walking past me. It was as if they knew my whole story and they were judging me for it. And I didn't like it. It was unnerving.

This night was one of the rarest when I felt the inspiration that it's not too late to do something out of myself. That's why I grabbed all the newspapers and my old computer and looked for available jobs. I circled some things that interested me and were available for me. Even though I sent about thousand applications for jobs and was declined every time, I kept repeating to myself that I must never give up. And even though I was often on the verge of giving up, I always knew how to stand up straighter and remind myself why am I even here in the first place.

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