The first work email that I opened this morning was from my counterpart Sara overseas. I would print the email out for the blog but it was full of wild, frustrated, swearing. Not blog material for the faint hearted. Sara was a tad stressed. I don't believe most of what she mentioned in the email is physically possible but who am I to question biology? And certainly some of the people she mentioned in the email could probably use a good...er...sorting out. Anyway at the end of it she had written – “I apologise for the swearing.” I emailed her back and said she could swear to me any time. I understand and I do. Sara is extremely frustrated in her job at the moment. I sent a copy of her email to Ethel, who rated it eight out of ten on the swearing scale. This is a very good score as Ethel is an excellent swearer. Though, to be honest, I think Ethel makes some of the words up - but they sound good anyway. She said she understood where Sara was coming from. Ethel spends her day job slutting.What is job slutting you ask? It is a word I came up with a year or so ago when Ethel and I were applying for jobs willy-nilly. We used to apply for so many jobs we had no idea what job we were being interviewed for or offered – hence the term job slutting. We are still quite obsessive about it. Why? Because we are both looking for news jobs – again. I have been to several interviews over the last two weeks and yes, I got those jobs. No, I did not take them. Why? Because they were no better and in many cases much worse than my present job. So I will continue to job slut, along with Ethel for we believe – in case we don’t win the $10 million Powerball tonight – that we have to get out of the current jobs we are in before we explode and intestines I suspect are hard to clean up.
I also spoke to, let’s call her Nola, from my old job at Promptel. I keep Nola informed of all my doings – the successes etc – so the gossip grapevine at Promptel is suitably busy and pissed off discussing what Amarinda is doing now. It's my gift to them. Nola is also looking for another job as she loathes where she is. Promptel does sucks badly. Leanne, a woman in Sydney, I speak to on a daily basis, was depressed today. Why? She hates her job. So, here we have five separate women, from different backgrounds, ages and ideals who hate their jobs. Why is that? Do we ask too much? No. We want and deserve more – be it respect, a pleasant environment or money. I also think that’s why in Oz at the moment there are so many vacant jobs. People are demanding more.
I don’t expect or ask anyone to agree with or understand the need to want more when it comes to a job. I am a firm believer that jobs are not real life. But fantasy should not suck this badly. If you love your job, I think that’s great – in fact I would love to here about someone who does as damned if I know anyone at the moment who is happy in the workplace. Yes, it is a job and yes, no one guarantees you happiness. Yes, I could shut up and accept my lot in life but I’ve never done so before and I doubt I’ll start now. Vent over.
I was at work when I read Kelly's next installment of the blog serial on www.kkirch.blogspot.com. I sat there and thought uh-huh. What do I follow that with? The answer? Stuffed if I know. In the words of Scarlett O'Hara - I'll think about it tomorrow. Meanwhile to refresh your memory go to www.annycook.blogspot.com and the episode before. While you're there relax with Anny's mellow dog for a moment.
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?
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