At 53, I’ve got a part-time job in a shop – it’s been life-changing

‘But Mum, it’s a bit embarrassing, isn’t it?’ my teen daughter said when I told her about my new job. To be honest, everything I do is embarrassing now to her, and I felt it was quite the opposite. In fact, I think my new part-time job, in a fashion and homeware shop near where we live in Ealing, might be the best decision I’ve made for years. At 53, with an established career as a journalist, consultant and published author, I was ready for a change. I’ve been freelancing for three years now. It’s brilliant for flexibility, but it can be lonely – and stressful. There’s no balance: one week, I will have so much to do I’m writing into the evening, the next, I’m talking to our cats. I am prone to catastrophising. When you drop your kid off at school and then come back to an empty house every day, it’s easy to catch cabin fever. I’ve found myself singing demented little songs as I go up and down the stairs (‘La la la when will I get a reply about that killer feature I pitched?’ – to the tune of Annie’s ‘Tomorrow’). One day the cat killed a pigeon, and that was the only thing that happened for the entire week. I created a respectful resting place for it, and balanced a statue of Buddha on top of the soil. Yes, I had too much time on my hands. I realised I needed balance, stability – and people to talk to. Colleagues to chat to about Traitors, and discuss the outlandish parking at the local supermarket. And who hasn’t fantasised about working in a lovely shop – a reliable, easy job that just makes people happy? Shorts I spotted that our local homeware shop needed staff, and asked if I could do it part-time – allowing me to keep writing the rest of the week. I was a little self-conscious at first because of my level of experience and my age but the interviewers were so friendly and put me at ease. When I got the job, I was genuinely chuffed – especially given how many friends of mine are telling stories of redundancies. I have friends who used to work in marketing who now work in restaurants and cafes, or are retraining to be plumbers or teachers. There’s no point being snobby about these things – the world’s changing and the bills won’t pay themselves. I’ve been working in the shop for three weeks now, and am struck by how stimulating it is to be around a mix of people again. When you work at home, your colleagues are your kids, other mums and dads and the Evri delivery guy. It’s the same conversations about holidays, home improvements and whether it’s a fox eating the rubbish or an enormous rat. Moving in such a small circle of people isn’t healthy. It’s wonderful, especially when you get older, to be around a range of different ages, sexual orientations and ethnicities who see the world differently to me. I’m learning new things too, which benefits my menopausal brain. When I started, I was nervous, but once I’d settled in and got used to the routine, learning how to work the till, the passwords, and the different systems… well, OK, some of it was overwhelming, but no more so than sitting at home waiting for emails. Now, while I still have time to write and work on projects, I have less time to sit around worrying. I am earning far less than I used to in corporate market research roles but at least I’m earning something during quieter days and also feeling a sense of purpose, which stops me from overthinking. So, for me, it’s definitely worth it. Besides, I didn’t want to go back into the corporate world where many sectors are sadly being hit hard by AI. The Advisory, Conciliation and Arbitration Service (ACAS) reported recently that 33 per cent of British companies are likely to make redundancies by January 2027, if they haven’t already. That’s going to be a lot of people looking for paid work. A pleasant, friendly job in a warm, safe environment is – to my mind – something to cherish. And my new job keeps me busy, but not the kind of busy that sends me into a panic because I’m on a late-night Zoom call, moderating focus groups with clients dialling in from Shanghai. I feel like the key to surviving in this crazy world is responding to change and trying new things. Yes, I work part-time in a shop. But I’m not lonely anymore and I still get to write in my spare time. What’s embarrassing about that?