Said woman take it slow, it'll work itself out fine*
Another amboseli ( Jan. 18, 2009) post!
I've stumbled across an environmental job search-engine called Stop Dodo which is only brilliant and awesome if you recall that my personal personification of depression and panic and worry and all that jazz is the Dodo of Doom. So yay on that then.
I've spent the whole day going through the massive list of entities that could, in some way, shape or form, have some sort of job in my field compiled last week. I found nothing. It's either for software, or biotech' or organic bio' or chemistry or water treatment or whathaveyou, or it's for people with 7+ years experience, or only senior positions, or in China or Columbia or Peru or Idaho, or it's for people with only a high school education and a flimsy grasp of the English language. In the end all I could do was hide my face in my hands, take a deep breath and try to read the billions of open pages through watery eyes whilst the GnR's Patience played on repeat.
Head and desk aren't in the middle of some passionate affair, they've bleedin' eloped and gotten married, drunk, in some back-alley Las Vegas drive-by marriage booth and are now trying to drown each other in margaritas, trying to figure out whether the local 7-11 sells strawberries to help their massive daiquiri need.
I don't think I'm qualified for any sort of job in my field, or rather, there are no jobs in my field, at least not for beginners. I could study the subject till I died of old age, sure, but I want money. Correction: I need money. Alas. So today sucked fucking goats and I'd like for this to very much not be happening. Fuck you, monetary basis of our society! Fuck you hard.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to sit and be thoroughly disheartened whilst watching John Simm be sexy. Work it, Simm.
Dream 1: [My notes are very vague on this one.] I'm in an elevator to a sort of Disney-themed world, or basement. I'm carrying a stuffed owl. [This is from Anon.'s Sweet Child of Mine fanfic).] I'm standing in front of a horse in a dark stall - again, basement - and it's suddenly terribly violent, attacking me. Blood images.
Dream 2: I'm in a bookstore, sitting on a couch talking to chaosvizier [I don't even know, yo, we've only exchanged postcards.] My mother's looking for a book on Japanese cookies. I'm living in the bookshop. [Hello, Black Books, so nice to see you.]
Dream 3: Asleep in bed in a sort of commune, in that there's a lot of people in the bed. Then it's more of a cheap, abandoned hotel room with two twin beds, up on a high story. We hide when Chinese military tanks roll buy - big enough that they can see in through our windows - else they'd kill us.
Dream 4: I am a man in a dark, dirty prison - somewhere underground, maybe. Having just given birth to a tiny baby, it's passed around outside my prison bars to three large men standing outside. [Reminds me of how apes and monkeys - like baboons - will automaticaly turn off the violence when there's a baby in the other's arms. So much so, in fact, that harrassed individuals even try to snatch a baby as a sort of shield. "You can't hurt me now! I have a baby!"] In the showers - a long hallway of white tiles and slick water - the inmates shit everywhere in a primitive intimidation and territorial way. [I don't know. It was very disturbing.]
Quote of the Day: Cyber-Sierra
But hard and difficult aren't the same as impossible (otherwise salmon wouldn't bother swimming upstream).
Video of the Day: Cory "Mr. Safety" Williams will donate $300 to Haiti for every 100,000 views
Links of the Day:
Supernatural:
germanjj's Meta The writers started it - or why incest is such a huge topic in our fandom
lilsnbug's Meta Devil's Traps
mobiusklein's Meta Love Me for Who I Truly Am: The Intersection of Dexter Morgan and Sam Winchester
Random:
Wiki's The Brotherhood of Dada
Butterbeer Recipe
Golden Globe Winners
* "Patience", Guns N' Roses
I've stumbled across an environmental job search-engine called Stop Dodo which is only brilliant and awesome if you recall that my personal personification of depression and panic and worry and all that jazz is the Dodo of Doom. So yay on that then.
I've spent the whole day going through the massive list of entities that could, in some way, shape or form, have some sort of job in my field compiled last week. I found nothing. It's either for software, or biotech' or organic bio' or chemistry or water treatment or whathaveyou, or it's for people with 7+ years experience, or only senior positions, or in China or Columbia or Peru or Idaho, or it's for people with only a high school education and a flimsy grasp of the English language. In the end all I could do was hide my face in my hands, take a deep breath and try to read the billions of open pages through watery eyes whilst the GnR's Patience played on repeat.
Head and desk aren't in the middle of some passionate affair, they've bleedin' eloped and gotten married, drunk, in some back-alley Las Vegas drive-by marriage booth and are now trying to drown each other in margaritas, trying to figure out whether the local 7-11 sells strawberries to help their massive daiquiri need.
I don't think I'm qualified for any sort of job in my field, or rather, there are no jobs in my field, at least not for beginners. I could study the subject till I died of old age, sure, but I want money. Correction: I need money. Alas. So today sucked fucking goats and I'd like for this to very much not be happening. Fuck you, monetary basis of our society! Fuck you hard.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to sit and be thoroughly disheartened whilst watching John Simm be sexy. Work it, Simm.
Dream 1: [My notes are very vague on this one.] I'm in an elevator to a sort of Disney-themed world, or basement. I'm carrying a stuffed owl. [This is from Anon.'s Sweet Child of Mine fanfic).] I'm standing in front of a horse in a dark stall - again, basement - and it's suddenly terribly violent, attacking me. Blood images.
Dream 2: I'm in a bookstore, sitting on a couch talking to chaosvizier [I don't even know, yo, we've only exchanged postcards.] My mother's looking for a book on Japanese cookies. I'm living in the bookshop. [Hello, Black Books, so nice to see you.]
Dream 3: Asleep in bed in a sort of commune, in that there's a lot of people in the bed. Then it's more of a cheap, abandoned hotel room with two twin beds, up on a high story. We hide when Chinese military tanks roll buy - big enough that they can see in through our windows - else they'd kill us.
Dream 4: I am a man in a dark, dirty prison - somewhere underground, maybe. Having just given birth to a tiny baby, it's passed around outside my prison bars to three large men standing outside. [Reminds me of how apes and monkeys - like baboons - will automaticaly turn off the violence when there's a baby in the other's arms. So much so, in fact, that harrassed individuals even try to snatch a baby as a sort of shield. "You can't hurt me now! I have a baby!"] In the showers - a long hallway of white tiles and slick water - the inmates shit everywhere in a primitive intimidation and territorial way. [I don't know. It was very disturbing.]
Quote of the Day: Cyber-Sierra
But hard and difficult aren't the same as impossible (otherwise salmon wouldn't bother swimming upstream).
Video of the Day: Cory "Mr. Safety" Williams will donate $300 to Haiti for every 100,000 views
Click to viewLinks of the Day:
Supernatural:
germanjj's Meta The writers started it - or why incest is such a huge topic in our fandom
lilsnbug's Meta Devil's Traps
mobiusklein's Meta Love Me for Who I Truly Am: The Intersection of Dexter Morgan and Sam Winchester
Random:
Wiki's The Brotherhood of Dada
Butterbeer Recipe
Golden Globe Winners
* "Patience", Guns N' Roses