My Impersonation of A Mosquito

There are few things as daunting as starting a new job, or a new work placement. It’s even more daunting starting a job in these modem days because work placements are like gold-dust, and if you are lucky enough to be interviewed for a job you’d actually like to take, well, that’s quite an achievement. And so it means that you will want to dig your fingernails into its epidermis, and cling on to it, like it’s a zip wire over a pool of starving sharks.

It’s better, and it’s worse, when its a job that you don’t intend on being in for the rest of your life. It’s better, because then you don’t worry so much about every career move. It’s worse because you are no closer to having the job of your dreams, and the experience you are gaining is irrelevant. All that is important in this situation is the capital generated. Because capital lets you do exciting things like master’s degrees, and trips around the world. And we all love round the world trips.

Finding even the smallest job these days is a massive triumph, because we’ve got more people than jobs, and less money than we have people. It’s all very financially complicated, but I am numerically illiterate. I have been known to spend a week’s rent on shoes, and I am (or at least can be) hideously financially irresponsible. Helpfully I have a guilt mechanism when I exceed a certain financial limit I set myself.

This made me laugh.(1)

Since yesterday morning, I’ve continued my greedy quest for what will be “GASP!”, my second job. Having two lives means I have two jobs. I have two bank accounts, and two sets of bedding, I have two gym memberships. I look like I’m running a B&B for twins.

Since my lastest new year’s revelation, I’ve decided that until I can get a job at the one hotel I’d like to work for, I’m going to email them weekly. I will also be phoning, and paying visits. Essentially so that they’ll realize that if they employ me, they’ll actually see less of me, thus creating a win-win situation. People these days, have to be resilient. Mosquitoes are still thriving, because they’re evil, soulless, persistent beings. Humanity needs a little more mosquito. Ask, ask, email, ask, telephone, ask, ask, telephone boss- to – be’s wife, ask, beg, ask, threaten, ask, ask… You get the point.

Aside from finding you incredibly irritating, any prospective employer will see that you are resilient, thick skinned, and persistent. If you actually went so far as to tell on the boss to his wife, then he will probably take out some sort of injunction against you. But then again, he might find bravery an admirable trait to. If anything, you’ll make an impression.

So, dear reader, the moral of the story is persistence. Perseverance. And the ability to act like a predator, stalking his prey. I’ve emailed this hotel about six times in as many weeks. The manager might be deleting my emails. But they’re going to keep cropping up like a serious skin disease, until the time he goes to a surgeon, and begs for the problem to be removed.





A Blogging Hiatus

Dear Reader,

I return to my little blog today, feeling somewhat repentant, for being so completely neglectful of you lately. Unfortunately, I’ve suffered two main impediments to recent blogging. The first one being searching for a house, in which to reside next year.Working out the demands of both rent and bills are fundamental, and unfortunately, I’m not mathematically or financially blessed as yet. My job search has been as productive as using Dairy Milk as a fireplace, and the demands of adulthood seem to have overridden my aspirations within my life as a student. But no matter; we have resolved the crisis now, and hopefully, someone will one day employ me. At this juncture however, jokes about the employability of English Literature graduates can be made, but that’s another post…

My second impediment however was more serious, at least in my eyes, because, I lost my inspiration to a chronic case of writer’s block that seems to have lasted at least two weeks. It’s rare for me to be completely unable to write for this long; usually a day, maybe three; not usually weeks. I couldn’t even seem to manage a small poem, not even something crude, adolescent and unsophisticated.

I stood in the mirror one morning and said “I have nothing in my head to say. About anything at all.” This was strange, because we studied The Tempest last week, and I adore Shakespeare. We also studied James Joyce, a man I have a love-hate relationship with. Usually, I could have written a lengthy explanation for this feeling of repulsion and adoration that follows Joyce, but this week, I couldn’t do it. It seemed too hard to put fingertips to keypad, and make something coherent, even amusing. But today, it seems much easier, and I think I shall be tackling Joyce, Robert Louis Stevenson, and finishing my T.S Eliot series at least sometime in the near future.

So, dear Reader, I apologise for my lengthy absence; but I promise, I shall be back tomorrow, writing about literary type things, instead of rambling on about why I couldn’t write about them at all.