JOBS APPLIED FOR: 2
CUPS OF TEA: 2
QUOTE OF THE DAY: (In 'Proofs of God at Godless Geeks)
OPRAH'S ARGUMENT (I)
(1) The human spirit exists.
(2) Therefore, God exists.
(This website saved me from jumping off something high today).
Oh, friends. The job search continues but seems at an impasse.
What signifies such a standstill? Well, you could notice it by the red mist floating over my eyes, or the pick-axe in my hand aimed squarely at the computer monitor.
I've reached the point in my job hunt where the honeymoon phase of initial optimism is flagging and I'm now Quite Fucking Frustrated and Bordering On That Postal Thing.
It seems that the job pages are full of things I'm either over-qualified or under-qualified for. Is it snobbish that I don't want to scrub toilets when I spent almost $35,000 on my education? Is it vain that I don't want to scrape over-priced meals into a bin at a pretentious bistro because a rich sloth of a three year old refuses to eat that which his parents knew he wouldn't?
And yet there seems to be no middle ground, nothing in between that I can do and that isn't horrible. You know, like working in a bookshop or even a newsagent. Or looking after kids in vacation care. Anything, something. The other end of the spectrum involves skills and qualifications I don't have.
I can write and I'm good at it. I've worked as a writer and I've been good at it. But in Newcastle it seems, this is not what is wanted or needed.
Does this say something about our city and the intellectual life here? I'd like to think not. Yet it seems that getting paid for doing something below exec, and above dish-pig is just not on the cards.
The application process is maddening. I feel like I'm throwing stones out into a pond. But they don't make a ripple, ever. Or I throw a stone and look down and notice one of my fingers has been cut off. Something grandly metaphorical and maudlin like that.
It should be noted here that Woolworths and Big W? Most poorly designed 'careers' site ever. Oh and teh lulz at calling it a careers page in the first place. I'm suuuuure their checkout chicks want to be working there for the next ten years. Uh huh. PLEASE IF I GET A JOB THERE AND AM STILL THERE AT 30, PLZ TO BE KILLING ME.
At least Derby is still awesome, and the husband is being ftw. I'm cranky as hell in every other respect though. It doesn't help that it is Melbourne Crap day; day of wasting money and shouting drunkenly and boorishly at horses that deserve a better life. I need to watch some Ghost World and other hatey indie-kid slacker angst. Then I'll re-emerge in a better mood, I promise.