There is one good thing about unemployment.
It’s the fact that when you spent the night alternating between crying and getting drunk because another interview/job trial flipped you over the edge, you can simply crawl into bed and stay there.
When I dreamt that my kitchen exploded recently I was fairly sure a meltdown was on the way. Well, here it is. Obviously, meltdowns involve long term baggage and the precitating event is just that. Nevertheless it was horrible. I don’t think they meant it to be horrible, but it was. Four hours of it. The only saving grace of it is that I got paid.
They were very particular, even down to how the buckets had to be filled. I thought their method was more inefficient, but I didn’t say so. One of the women has no filter. She might not have said ‘God that’s awful’ but her face did. She undid everything I did and remade it. Not that they gave me a demonstration first, just showed me a picture and said do that. One was a posy in a pot which had paper around it in the picture, so I wrapped it like a bouquet and put it in the pot only have it all ripped off and redone. Pot, with paper pushed in and then filled with water. WTF? I got into trouble with her for making the boss angry but I have absolutely no idea why.
I walked away from that job trial feeling utterly incompetent and like I never want to set foot inside a florists ever again. Or that I am capable of handling a retail environment. Which would be fine except for the fact that I am no longer getting interviews for work in my other areas. I am totally baffled by this. And I’ve asked for feedback and what you get is total buraucratic dribble that is not remotely helpful.
All dogged by the green eyed monster which is directed toward my friend. She’s not even graduated with her PhD and she’s been offered not one but two lectureships and won a huge research grant. She’s had the luck I hoped for myself post PhD. It either works for you, or it’s a career killer.
so here I am faintly dead and career plan c (floristry) in tatters around me. Career plan D? At this rate I’ll be scrubbing the loos at the mall.