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  • I work for a large supermarket chain, in the bakery. Everything is part cooked and frozen, it’s my job to heat it, tray it up and display it to the company plan. I have a routine, I must follow that, otherwise time slips away and I can easily get behind. My morning starts at 5 or 5.30am depending on the day. I have to leave the house around half an hour earlier to walk, rain or shine, the three miles through the streets of Plymouth. In winter it’s the middle of the night; still dark, still cold.

    The work confines me to a small room, which the freezer makes freezing cold. My hi-visibility jacket is the only protection. I am alone. Occasionally other staff pass me by. In this room I take the stuff from a box on a shelf in the freezer, put it on a metal tray and then into the oven. When it’s hot I take it out of the oven, put it onto a trolley to cool down, then onto the shop floor and into a plastic tray. This is my routine; it never changes.

    It is achingly boring. I have a limited window of time to do my job, around 2 hours, though I’m usually finished before that, with time to spare. But I am so exhausted from the early start, that staying up after my shift ends is difficult. I often find myself crawling back into bed

    The photographs in this series are a way of mentally processing what is happening in my life. They are reference points for a state of being. I tell myself I am lucky to have a job and that this is only a stepping-stone to other things. For the moment my work provides my shelter and food. It’s work that gives me a life outside the monotony of routine.
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