Dizzy

I was walking behind a couple of young mums in my lunch break the other day. The type that amble along at a snail's pace, content to take all the time in the world as well as all the available space on the footpath with their giant cow-catcher prams and their vast 'I-still-haven't-lost-all-my-baby-weight' bums wobbling back and forth, making it impossible for anyone else to pass. After hopping around in frustration for a while, I resigned myself to being stuck behind them, listening to their fascinating conversation. It went something like:
Mum 1 – "Yeah, well, y'know, after he turned around and said that to me, I turned around and told him he could stick it. What a bastard."
Mum 2 – "Yeah! I would've turned around and punched him if it was me!"
Mum 1 – "Well if he ever turns around and says anything like that again, I'm gonna turn around and take him for half!"
Mum 2 – "And so you should!"

And so on. I couldn't help being amused. There seemed to be a lot of turning around going on in the discussion she was recounting. Regular ballerinas, they were. I mean, did they actually pirouette on the spot, and then say their piece? Or were they facing away from each other, so that they had to physically rotate 180 degrees before they could converse face to face? I had images of two people standing back to back, the first one spinning around to give their side of the argument, then turning to face the other direction again to hear the reply. Seemed a waste of effort to me, when they could just remain looking at each other. Hmm.

Felt like turning around and suggesting that there might be a lot less vertigo if everyone involved could just stay facing the one direction. But then they might have turned around and punched me.

Quickie

Had a mini-church experience on Sunday night. I'd been meaning to visit a certain church, simply because of its name. Usually I don't like to mention names of churches specifically, but in this case I just have to make an exception – it's called Nude Erections. Okay, sure, it's spelt a little differently than that, but homophonic principles aside, that is the name they have chosen for their particular branch of the body of Christ. Which is cool – I'm all for naming churches after lewd images, if that's what floats your boat. After all, it was the novelty factor of the name that made me want to pay them a visit, so it must be achieving something. That, and the fact that a guy I was talking to this week told me he used to attend there regularly, and that now he considers it a cult. My interest was aroused immediately (so to speak). I was going to check out Nude Erections!

Rocked up to the night service to the new whizz-bang venue they've just built. The first thing I noticed was a huge sign in the foyer, clearly visible as you walk toward the building from the car park – "ATM HERE". I grinned. Funny how little things like that can create a mindset for the sort of church you're about to attend, even before you experience it for yourself. No cash for the offering? No worries, just pop out to the foyer! Credit card facilities also available for those who wish to give money they don't even have yet! I shouldn't jump to conclusions I suppose, but I was sure it was a sign. Well, it was a sign – it was on a little stand and everything.

Following the thump-thump-thump of the worship music I could hear emanating from the building, I walked through the doors and was greeted with a sight all church visitors dread – no more than twenty people, standing around a bunch of tables and chairs with pens and paper on them. Argh! Intimate contact with strangers! Run awaaay! It's one thing to be a casual observer in the back row, but it's quite another to sit awkwardly at a table with a bunch of bona fide born again bless-ed believers who are bending over backwards to make me (the potential convert) feel comfortable, and somehow managing through every action and deed to achieve the exact opposite.

I was just about to turn and escape when a lady approached me, wearing the all too familiar Frozen Welcome Expression. Standing about five millimetres away from my face, she proceeded to joyfully explain that this service was a 'little bit different' to the norm, with a more intimate time of connection and discussion. Hmm. I mustn't have looked too impressed, since she added, "It can be a little bit daunting for newcomers, can't it?"
"Just a bit" I replied, uncomfortably.
After giving me a reassuring pat on the arm, she pentecostal-hopped her way over to another uneasy looking guy, no doubt a fellow visitor. Seizing the opportunity, I quickly turned to leave. My movement must have caught her eye, as she turned back to me, gazing wide-eyed in confusion.
"Bye!" I called cheerfully, as I walked toward the exit.
"Wait!" she exclaimed, panicked. "Are you leaving?"
"Yep. See ya!"
She grabbed my arm, frantic. "Did I say something that offended you?"
I laughed. "No, of course not! How could you have? We had like a five word conversation. It's just a bit too… intimate for my liking."
The Frozen Welcome Expression quickly returned, and after squeezing my arm what felt like twenty times, I was finally able to leave.

Quite disappointed that I didn't see any actual nude erections during my time there – again, more for the novelty value than some sort of pervy voyeuristic tendency on my part. Nor did I see any evidence of cult activity, but it was a bit soon to tell I suppose. Perhaps I had a narrow escape.

Employable

Well, seeing as the myriads of people who read my blog (okay, maybe just the one) are clamouring for part two of the tale of my journey to the dole queue, I thought I'd better oblige with an update on what's been happening lately.

After the company I worked for gave me the right foot of fellowship, I was suddenly left with the task of finding a new job – and quickly. It's kind of weird actually. I'd become very attached to that company (even though things were pretty shit near the end there), and suddenly I was supposed to just get over it and move on to something else. This sounds a bit extreme, but it's kinda like, say if K died, it'd be like joining a dating agency the next day to try and find a new husband. There was no time to grieve for the chapter of my life that was closed forever – I needed to earn an income.

Luckily, all I had to do was sit on my vast acreage and wait for a job to fall in my lap. The day after my last day at AM, I got two phone calls from guys who worked at recruitment agencies who had heard my plight and wanted to put me on their books. Sounded good to me! However, I felt obliged to go to some sort of effort myself, so I went hunting on the Seek website and checked last Saturday's Examiner. To my surprise, there were heaps of admin jobs. Must be a skills shortage or something. The Seek website had one that closed the next day, as an MYOB assistant at an accounting firm in the city. I threw together an application and emailed it off. Exhausted from the effort of applying for one whole job, I decided to resume my search the next day.

Turns out there was no need. The next morning I got a phone call, inviting me to an interview with the recruitment agency for the job I'd applied for! So off I trundled. It went very well. They called me for a second interview – with my prospective employer. It went very well. That afternoon, the recruitment agency called me and informed me that they would like to offer me the position! Man, I thought, they sure don't waste time. So they sent me a letter of offer. I read through it – it was pretty standard, apart from the fact that I'd be taking a $5k per annum pay cut. Damn. Oh well, I thought, at least I'll have a job to go to. Any job is better than nothing.

Well, I've been there nearly four weeks now, and I have to say it's one of the most uninteresting jobs I've ever had. Don't get me wrong, the company seems really nice and all, and there are some great people that work there, but I just don't have anything to DO. It's driving me nuts. And when they do give me work to complete, it's like the accounting equivalent of cleaning the toilets. Like entering two years worth of transactions into an abandoned MYOB file with only bank statements to work from. It's really not something I can see myself doing long term. Plus, the work environment is much more restrictive than I'm used to. I have to timesheet every minute of my day. I have a swipe card that tracks my every movement in, out and throughout the building. The only websites I can view are work-related ones that have been whitelisted in the system. Email is tracked. Personal phone calls are forbidden. I mean, I understand that people need to keep on track and focus on work, but I'm not TWELVE, for crying out loud! I think that staff are much more likely to be loyal if they feel they are trusted by their employers. Sure, there will always be the odd one or two that take advantage of that trust, but you'll get them no matter what. I really don't want to work in an environment like that for much longer. I feel like my personality is slowly ebbing away, being drowned in a sea of conformity.

So that's where I stand at the moment. I know I should be grateful that I've even got a job at all. I dunno, I guess job satisfaction is important to me. Maybe my heart is still with the old company. Who knows. I'm keeping my eye out for somewhere I feel I could work long term. I've applied for a job in a school office, which I really hope I get. I've always wanted to work in a school office. Huge ambition I know, but at least it's achievable. My only concern is that the job I've applied for is with a school that is a client of the company that recently gave me the arse. All it would take is for someone to ask BJ about me, and my chances of getting the job are probably screwed. But I think it's worth a shot.