Introduction to 12 Jobs in 12 Months

I’ve been whinging and moaning about not being able to start my 12 Jobs in 12 Months book and some people might think I’m pathetic in sharing these doubts and fears with my Facebook friends, but I find it really helpful. Without you, the person reading this article, I wouldn’t have got over my blockages and never would have started. So I owe you a VERY BIG THANKS.

I’d love to know what you think of the draft introduction below . I wrote it just after I took on the idea of doing this book and it explains how the idea came together. I think it’s okay and I am inspired to go on. But do you find it interesting? Would you like to read more? Would you buy a book with stuff like this? I’d be so grateful if you would add a comment below the article.

I called this first part of the book the “Dog Days Between Christmas and New Year”. I like the term “dog days” as it suggests waiting for something to happen. I’m not sure where I heard the term.

I want to explain how this book came about. On the 22nd of December 2022 I was walking across Edinburgh and I called an old contact called Alan Calcott. Alan runs a company called Carbon Plan Engineering, which offers energy efficiency solutions for commercial properties — in other words, how to save money by insulating buildings and using whatever renewable energy technologies are most appropriate. One of his early jobs was helping Bristol Zoo turn manure into energy.

I told Alan that since lockdown in 2020 I’ve been getting into building work. During that year much of the economy shut down and I ended up back in my hometown — Edinburgh — doing up my flat. I’d been renting it out for 20 years and suddenly my tenants went back to Australia and it was empty. I was at a loose end and I ended up renovating the place with £15,000 I had inherited from my mother’s untimely death.

The surprising thing is that I really enjoyed the work — painting and decorating, doing basic joinery, finding and motivating tradesmen, running around in an old Toyota Hiace van I’d got for £250, and crawling under the floorboards (wearing a gas mask) fitting insulation. I wore a boilersuit, drove a white van and was able to travel freely as the building trade, for reasons I still can’t understand, was exempt from the Covid 19 lockdown restrictions.

For over 20 years I’d been working as a project manager and PR consultant in Romania, Russia and the former Yugoslavia. These jobs paid good money, enough to buy a flat in Edinburgh and Bucharest. But the more successful I got at doing consultancy work — which is essentially sorting out other people’s crap — the more stressful and lonely it became. As a PR consultant I got a direct view into the nerve centre of a company, or government agency, and even the EU (my main client) and it’s not pretty. The best word that describes a big modern organisation is neurotic, a word that Google defines as “abnormally sensitive, obsessive, or anxious”.

For years my aim was to earn enough money to support my family and although I was a rotten husband I was good to my kids and sometimes I earned a lot as a consultant. But I’m a backpacker at heart, a nomad, a gypsy, and settling down in one place just isn’t for me. Even within the marriage I would wander, go on long bicycle tours alone, and now that I’m divorced, the mortgage is paid off, and my kids have grown up, I’m free to hit the road again. The fact that I’m 59 years of age isn’t a problem as my attitude is the same as it was when I left school — I know that something good will soon come along as I’m honest, reliable and am sustained by my good reputation. I’m also working on being more humble, which makes it easy to appreciate what most people would call “shitty jobs”.

As I was saying, I was on the phone to Alan Calcott and I told him I want to learn about how to insulate buildings as this seems to be a good way to help people reduce greenhouse gases in their homes. This would be my way of “doing my bit” for the planet. Does he know any building companies that might need a labourer, driver or dogsbody?

By now I was walking on a busy road and it was hard to hear what he was saying. Our conversation went something like this:

“What’s the name of that book? I didn’t hear you properly. Did you say 12 Jobs in 12 Months? Who’s the author?”

“No, it’s not been written yet. You should write it.”

“Eh? What do you mean?”

“You should get 12 jobs over the next year in all the sectors that are short of labour, not just construction. Catering and hospitality are also short of workers. Then write a book about it.”

“That’s an interesting idea.”

“And it’s timely. Brexit has cut off the supply of European labour.”

“I suppose there’s plenty of work out there.”

“There certainly is. Send me a text that I can post on LinkedIn. But now I’ve got to run.”

“Bye.”

People often suggest I write a book about what I’m currently doing. Friends have encouraged me to write about living on a houseboat, working in Bosnia and visiting New England — all things I’ve done over the last few years. But one needs to be inspired to write a book as it requires a massive concentration of mental energy, and the thought of writing another book about houseboats, Bosnia or New England makes me yawn.

This idea of 12 jobs in 12 months is different. It feels original, wacky and inspiring. Has anyone written anything like this before? The closest thing I can think of was an advert I saw in the New York Times, looking for someone to travel to a different location every day for a year, all over the world, and write about it. I thought such a task was impossible but I still applied (and, as with all jobs I’ve formally applied for, got no reply).

This book also presents a challenge: Is it possible to get 12 jobs in 12 months? Is it really so easy to get a job, to profit from the shambles of Brexit? Will I be able to sustain it over the entirety of 2023?

What I do know is that the worse the job, the more chaotic the situation, the better material I will have. It will be a book written in the present tense, or in “real time” as they say nowadays. I also know that once I get started it will form a life of its own. Books are like seeds, which are often dry and dormant, but once the growth process starts it’s fast, exciting and powerful.

#12×12