Of Being on the Breadline January 9, 2008
Posted by Jen in : Journal , 25 commentsGood grief. I am feeling a little grumpified.
With no job or financial frivolity on the dull grey horizon, I visited another employment agency yesterday. Sigh. I had applied for a job online through them so had to go in to be ‘processed’ or something.
Rushing through the rain, I clutched my passport tightly – proof, apparently, that I am not merely a figment of my own imagination. I had wondered.
On arrival, I spoke into a pressy-button thing which magically made a blonde 12-year-old come out with a clipboard and questionnaire which asked me questions I’d already answered. I answered them again.
Forty minutes later, the young strumpet re-appeared. ‘Have you finished yet?’
‘After forty minutes? To fill in my name, address and previous two jobs? Yes, just about,’ I didn’t say. I thought it really sarcastically though. You’d have been ever so proud.
I smiled at the strumpet as best I could. She gave me a funny look. I suspect I may have looked slightly mental, wonky or as if I were being throttled by an invisible nutter.
She couldn’t find my CV on the system and had no idea who I was or what I’d spent the past twenty years doing. The job I was being grilled for was already interviewing so I was too late for that. Never mind, eh?
The room was approximately 40 degrees Celsius. My face turned a most becoming shade of beetroot as I hysterically explained my life history to the 12-year-old who hadn’t even ironed her jumper.
Luckily, I had a telephone call from another agency at the end of the day. Would I like to go and work for a bakery, chasing up bread orders for supermarkets and doing data input?
Um, no, not really, thanks very much for asking. I’m too busy writing my novel, doncha know? Sod the money, I shall live on porridge until I am published. Hurrah.
