08 March, 2007

unemployed in boomtown

hi. remember me? the most popular hygienist in edmonton, roughly one job offer a week, hints, compliments, flowers, ass-kissing to the point of slight soreness, all manners of love thrown my way? now? gainfully unemployed and apparently bloody unwanted. when i called back my no-longer-soon-to-be-boss (you get where this is going, no?) and told him those new improved hours did nothing for me, no negotiation ensued. what ensued, you ask? what ensued had the distinct flavour of an extended sigh of relief: wellthankyouverymuchi'msureyou'llfindsomethingelsesoonthankyouverymuchbye. as in, you are too expensive and i will continue to do a crappy job myself as opposed to hiring a professional, on the advice of my (idiotic? retarded? grossly underinformed?) advisors, oh and by the way, i am too much of an asshole to actually tell you this so i will give you a pretend demotion and have you back out thereby saving my honour. or whatever. fucker.

like i said - unemployed.

i am in the one place in canada where jobs grow on trees, where cleaning ladies make 40$/h (and yes, my american readers, that's only 6 cents US but it goes a ways here), where they are importing workers from mexico, turkey and poland, and i cannot get a job.

i am also in the one place where the ONLY reason you could possibly consider living here is to make shitloads of moola, and what am i doing? let's just say that spider solitaire features prominently. and sporadic bouts of weeping. hey! let's pop another st. john's wort and hope for a miracle.

still with me? because if you're not, i cetainly wouldn't blame you. i. bore. me. my depression bores me. recap: ME. BORED. also, ME. BORING.

so if you're waiting for fun peppy posts you might have a little bit of a wait. get comfortable, pick up a book (i recommend terry pratchett if you want a witty skewering of our society with dwarves and vampires thrown in for good measure. i promise you something that i can no longer deliver - you will laugh out loud, so don't read on crowded public transport or you might get committed which, come to think of it, sounds like a lovely way to spend time...nice white room, dried frog pills brought by a thick-ankled nurse, jello, a comfy bed that goes up and down, and restraints to prevent the nervous twitch brought on by waaaay too much spider solitaire, in other words, heaven). and don't hold your breath.

1 comment:

Anthony said...

I'm a firm believer in "things happen for a reason" and I'm thinking that these jobs aren't panning out because a much better one is around the corner.

Hang in there, baby.