September 22nd, 2003

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What I did at the weekend

Well, that was a more productive weekend than I expected.

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Still loads of things I didn't manage to do of course. Like getting in touch with all the people I owe emails to. Part of the problem is if people say "Let's meet up some time!" the answer tends to be "That would be good, but the next time I'm free is some time in October", and that just sounds rude. Mind you no email is probably ruder. :-/
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You've got to feel it in your bones

When I know I've said something really stupid or insensitive, for some time (days or more) afterwards I feel "emotionally nauseous" -- that is, I feel physically queasy when I think of it, but it's very definitely an emotional reaction as well. I can usually tell what it is that's causing it because the feeling gets much stronger when I think specifically of that thing -- it's like prodding a sore place.

Lately I've been feeling like that nearly all the time and I have no idea what's causing it. The only thing I can think of was saying something that offended ottah, in the pub last Thursday, and I hope she's forgiven me; and anyway I don't get the sickish feeling any more strongly than its background level when I think of that.

Funnily enough, I don't tend to get the same feeling about arguments, though the feeling I do get still has an edge of nausea. Mostly, though, I just get very angry and very upset, and often so shaky that I can't type properly. Which is still not pleasant.

Of course, these feelings all feed off each other -- if I'm feeling sick and uneasy I'm more likely to either get into arguments, or get drunk to try to drown the feelings (and then I often end up saying things that I regret).

Not sure where (if anywhere) this is going. Just musing (and whining a bit, yeah) out loud really.
  • Current Mood
    queasy
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Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop

This is very boring, but I've got a list of things I'm going to try to get done this week, and I'm going to put it up here in the hope that some vague sense of external accountability will make me more likely to do them:

[ ] 6 Job applications
In case anybody cares, these are: fundraising assistant at Macmillan Cancer Research; editorial-type-thing at Analysys; information analyst at the NHS; legal assistant at the Refugee Legal Centre; Teaching Resources Co-ordinator in the University's medicine department; some kind of general admin assistant at an EFL place whose name I forget. I never said I had a clear "career path" (whatever that is) in mind.
[ ] Do at least two clothes washes
[ ] Phone the piano tuner. (Other 90s comedy fans will be amused to hear that he's called Rob Newman.)

Only a short list, but that way there's some hope I'll get some of it done.

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The rain earlier was impressive; the sky was almost totally black, and even now it looks dark and brooding. I feel like I should say something about the clearing of the air, the breaking of the tension, or even the welcomeness of the water to the dry land; but in fact topmost in my mind at the moment is the worry of whether pto452's windscreen wipers will cope on the journey home.
  • Current Mood
    greyish, becoming dark later
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killing time

I hate job applications. I seem to be talking myself out of applying for most of the ones I was planning to apply for, and I'm not sure whether it's because I hate writing job applications or because they're really not worth applying for (or a bit of both, probably).

The Macmillan Cancer Research Fundraising Assistant post is the most annoying; I really wanted to apply for it because it seems the closest to a Good Thing out of the jobs I was going to apply for, but the more I look at the job description the more I feel like I'm hideously overqualified for it. I know that sounds disgustingly conceited, and I'm sorry, but they're asking for things like "at least one year in office environment", and "experience of ... use of office equipment", and (I know qualifications aren't that relevant any more, but) the only qualifications they require are GCSEs (or NVQ level 1 or 2). It seems bitterly ironic that I've spent so long desperately trying to write up my experience (which is pitiful in comparison to that of most graduates) into something that sounds employable so that I can apply for jobs I don't want to do, that now I can't talk it down enough for a job I do want to do.

The Refugee Legal Centre job is another Good Thing, but it's a lot worse paid than it looked originally -- the advert says something in the region of 20K, but it's actually more like 14K plus extra money for having to work most weekends and some evenings. Which would still be a not unreasonable wage but it's considerably less than I'm on now, for massively longer hours. (I now expect hundreds of people to follow up telling me that obviously I can't work for a Good Cause and have money / a social life. Okay, so I was naive in thinking I could do both.)

The Studio Cambridge (EFL school) job just has such a broken application form that I'm not sure I can face trying to fill it in. Yeah, yeah, I know, I should stop being so fucking snobbish and picky, and after all it's not as if my ability to produce reasonably-formatted text in Word has done me any good -- but I can't even get the text to stop displaying with lines on top of other lines, so I can't even read half of it.

It's just making me feel miserable and panicky and hopeless as fucking usual, with the added panic that I definitely don't have anything resembling a real job after the end of this month. And meanwhile Gawen's still full of mad ideas -- the latest one today was that the people who ProQuest can't afford to employ any more should go and start their own "data solutions" company, so that ProQuest can outsource to them and it won't cost ProQuest as much.

I just want to give up on the whole thing. At best the job I get now is only killing time until I do what I really want to do with my life ... but I just wish I could shake the fear that that's never going to happen, and actually I'm just killing time until, well, time kills me.
  • Current Music
    Juliet Turner: "Too Close for Comfort"
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Half empty? Half full? Half asleep more like.

Have emailed applications for the job at Analysys and the job with the NHS, and have printed out application for the Macmillan Cancer Research job to send off tomorrow morning. That's three applications in one night, which is more than I've managed in a while.

... Mind you, last time I managed that many at once I didn't hear anything back -- even an explicit rejection -- from any of them.

<sigh>
  • Current Music
    R... oh no, it's just finished.