everything's do-peachy
or rather do píčy, totíž. I hate job hunting! If I WANTED to keep doing the job I'm qualified to do, the one I have experience and education in, I wouldn't be looking for a job now, would I? I would have kept doing that job that's made me such an experienced guy in that field. So I put all this effort into re-tooling my resume to make it look like all this non-pertinent-to-businessy-type-jobs experience I have is in fact extremely pertinent, theeen I translate the thing into Czech (I'm way proud of that one and am going to keep casually dropping it into conversation as long as I see fit), and put my heart on the line sending it out to people, and I get one little rejection, and I shatter like, well, something fragile. I promise I can do these jobs in a way you would find satisfactory, I just never actually have before! Bleh.
Three other czechoslovak guys are also crashing here right now, bringing the total in Římská 34 up to 7 people, and it's chaos all the time and there's never any hot water, but it's nice that they're around, they're loud and energetic and I'm getting a lot of conversation practice (vulgar though it may be with these čuráci), and they're in my same situation, crashing here til they find an apartment they can afford and a job to pay for it with. Misery loves společnost.
So I can't really eat, or date, or rock, or do much other than sit in front of the computer grinding away the hours sending out applications and resumes and playing video games when I can't take it anymore and wearing the same sweatshirt day in and day out and letting my hair and beard grow and get all crazy, and try to expend as little energy as possible so I don't get hungry, until I find work. Fuj. Someone will take me, that kind calming soul Piotr reminded me that he applied forever to places before finding his cushy bank job. These things come, they take time. For now I have a peasant's dreams, of "Oh the things I'll buy! The restaurants I'll eat in! The adventures I'll have, when I'm employed!"
Fust-ratin'. Thanks for letting me get that out.
Three other czechoslovak guys are also crashing here right now, bringing the total in Římská 34 up to 7 people, and it's chaos all the time and there's never any hot water, but it's nice that they're around, they're loud and energetic and I'm getting a lot of conversation practice (vulgar though it may be with these čuráci), and they're in my same situation, crashing here til they find an apartment they can afford and a job to pay for it with. Misery loves společnost.
So I can't really eat, or date, or rock, or do much other than sit in front of the computer grinding away the hours sending out applications and resumes and playing video games when I can't take it anymore and wearing the same sweatshirt day in and day out and letting my hair and beard grow and get all crazy, and try to expend as little energy as possible so I don't get hungry, until I find work. Fuj. Someone will take me, that kind calming soul Piotr reminded me that he applied forever to places before finding his cushy bank job. These things come, they take time. For now I have a peasant's dreams, of "Oh the things I'll buy! The restaurants I'll eat in! The adventures I'll have, when I'm employed!"
Fust-ratin'. Thanks for letting me get that out.