In between jobs panic attack
November 17th 2006 00:23
Writing my last post has got me contemplating my present situation of ‘being in between jobs’.
Initially when I quit the hostie gig, life was grand. Having the luxury to wake up around brunch time every day, observing workers rushing around like headless chooks on their lunch hour while I leisurely strolled around the shops, listening to my friends’ work related woes, all left me with that wonderful feeling called smugness.
But today, after I received yet another rejection for a job application (to add to the ever-growing collection of rejections), I decided that the novelty of being jobless has well and truly worn off.
I’m fed up with having nothing to contribute to a conversation apart from “well, I’m still looking for work…”
I’m sick of seeing a rapidly diminishing bank balance.
I’ve had enough of scrutinising the menu for items with prices in the single digit category when dining out because of this.
I’ve realised day-time television is more boring than watching paint dry.
I’m frustrated with reading job ads for entry-level jobs which require 1-2 year’s minimum previous experience in a related field.
I’m terrified of the prospect of working in a call centre because that’s what the desperately unemployed usually resort to.
Suddenly I am beginning to view my days as a trolley dolly with rose tinted lenses. Perhaps being abused for having too much beef and not enough chicken wasn't so bad. Nor were the days of passengers travelling with screaming brats handing back nappy laden meal trays. And waking up at the crack of dawn and faking being nice all day? That was a breeze. At least getting out of bed had a purpose.
This defies all logic and sensible thinking but maybe I should apply for one of those hostie jobs being advertised in the paper.
Initially when I quit the hostie gig, life was grand. Having the luxury to wake up around brunch time every day, observing workers rushing around like headless chooks on their lunch hour while I leisurely strolled around the shops, listening to my friends’ work related woes, all left me with that wonderful feeling called smugness.
But today, after I received yet another rejection for a job application (to add to the ever-growing collection of rejections), I decided that the novelty of being jobless has well and truly worn off.
I’m fed up with having nothing to contribute to a conversation apart from “well, I’m still looking for work…”
I’m sick of seeing a rapidly diminishing bank balance.
I’ve had enough of scrutinising the menu for items with prices in the single digit category when dining out because of this.
I’ve realised day-time television is more boring than watching paint dry.
I’m frustrated with reading job ads for entry-level jobs which require 1-2 year’s minimum previous experience in a related field.
I’m terrified of the prospect of working in a call centre because that’s what the desperately unemployed usually resort to.
Suddenly I am beginning to view my days as a trolley dolly with rose tinted lenses. Perhaps being abused for having too much beef and not enough chicken wasn't so bad. Nor were the days of passengers travelling with screaming brats handing back nappy laden meal trays. And waking up at the crack of dawn and faking being nice all day? That was a breeze. At least getting out of bed had a purpose.
This defies all logic and sensible thinking but maybe I should apply for one of those hostie jobs being advertised in the paper.
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Comment by Chantal
Dont go back just because it's hard to find something else. Remember, you left for a reason!
Comment by Judy
Ex-Hostie