The lunatics will run the asylum...

Day 1: Apply for job. Even though it is for "social development". Upheave mildly. Apply anyway.

Day 2: Receive Response.
No. Sorry. You were rejected because you did not meet our requirements.

Count number of hours. Reckon that they didn't have enough time, that they're full of shite.

Balls are already against the wall. Given up caring. Fire back email "Why? Which requirement?"

Day 3: "Why?" is answered
"You did not ask for enough money. That said, you asked for just a bit too less. If you reapply, and just ask for more, we will consider your application. Kind regards, We Make Crazy Look This Good"

Day 3.5: Reapply. Asking for $10,000 more a year. Check your mental health online to see if you are not the crazy one.

Day 3.9 Have a really good ironic chuckle (chuckle in that way that you stab your eyeballs with stolen pens from the current job's stationary cupboard) because the last dear ex-boss was quite happy to tell you that, despite your post-grad, your fairly exceptional fieldwork & inside information, and your 8 years in the business, you were damn mad to expect so much as the (pittance of a) salary that you were expecting at the previous job.

The lunatics will run the asylum...


All that said. Melbourne is treating me quite well lately. Despite the Couch of Unemployment lurking in the corner of my sight, all is going swimmingly! Excuse the pun.

I am even noticing from recent posted photos, that I may have got myself some sense of fashion!

Note; fashion. Not style. Fashion. Let's not get ahead of ourselves after all. That might be as mad as expecting a real job (cough. career) before I turn 30.

(Speaking of which, anyone know how to turn off this self-reflecting at new decade nonsense plaguing my mind? It really is exhausting & causing me to do things like move-fast-and-sweat).

If I spoke Mandarin, I could've been selling wine in China yesterday. Dammit. Crash course anyone? I'm soon to have loads of time on my hands anyway. And not enough money to keep it busy with wine.

Unless the crazies reckon I have asked for sufficiently insane lumps of cold hard cash & give me that job of saving the world.