(no subject)
I have of late been attempting to find a Proper Job, by which I mean one which doesn't involve sitting on the floor hunched over a laptop typing ISBN numbers and collecting dust. I have signed up with two agencies, one of whom found me work last summer within two hours of me registering with them, and who this time round have already got me an interview, given me a very helpful talk beforehand, and even offered to walk me to the interview to make sure I found the place. The other have been less helpful. The person I initially spoke to was a Senior Somethingorother and yet seemed to have no idea what sort of requirements certain jobs have (for instance one type of activity in the area I'm applying for quite obviously requires a maths degree, or at least some level of numeracy beyond a B in GCSE Maths), and when I registered as good as told me he wasn't going to try very hard to find anything for me. He has since passed on my details to their branch in Croydon, from which a woman with the voice of Janet Street-Porter phoned yesterday to offer to put me forward for jobs which, it turns out from the email she sent me today, are aimed at 16-year-olds. I suspect, from the conversation we had yesterday, that she skipped the bit of my CV which mentions that I've spent the past 3 years studying a Proper Subject at a Good University, as all she mentioned was that I couldn't expect much because I only had three months experience, with no reference to the fact that I have five years' more education than required. On top of that the job descriptions are written in such a way that only someone already doing the job could possibly understand what they involve, they pay less than I could earn elsewhere, and, probably most importantly, they're offering me car crashes and sprained ankles when what I want is hurricanes and pirates.
Anyway, the point I was really trying to make is that while ranting at length about this to Lawrence* over dinner, I got so irate that I nearly choked to death on a mange tout. And by 'nearly choked to death,' I mean Lawrence was standing behind me about to attempt the Heimlich manoevere when I finally managed to hack up the last green stringy bit. Ew. Job-hunting is bad for your health.
* You think I complain a lot on Livejournal? Only the tip of the iceberg makes it this far. Most of it only gets as far as Lawrence, after which I stop caring enough to post here.
Anyway, the point I was really trying to make is that while ranting at length about this to Lawrence* over dinner, I got so irate that I nearly choked to death on a mange tout. And by 'nearly choked to death,' I mean Lawrence was standing behind me about to attempt the Heimlich manoevere when I finally managed to hack up the last green stringy bit. Ew. Job-hunting is bad for your health.
* You think I complain a lot on Livejournal? Only the tip of the iceberg makes it this far. Most of it only gets as far as Lawrence, after which I stop caring enough to post here.