I am in my second week of gainful unemployment. I’m not really unemployed though. I’m actually just a very available relief teacher – the health of the corporate body of teachers in Wellington being rather more robust than is useful for me.
My daily routine in this strange and uncharted world begins with checking my phone as I wake to see if there is a text from the education job agency – really the agency for aimless and wayward teachers – saying there are jobs going today. And this morning there was a text. And the text said there were jobs!
‘Call them! Call them!’ my wife yelped at me, with no small hint of delight and fulfilment at the prospect of getting me the heck out of the house for the day. ‘No, no,’ I responded unruffled, like a chemically sedated duck on a winter pond, ‘they will call me. That’s how the system works. I reply to the text and they call me back.’ Except that, of course, they didn’t. So…. I eventually called them. And they had no work ‘that would be suitable for me today’. Curious. And annoying.
With the prospect of gainful employment for the day successfully dashed, my wife gently reminded me of the two loads of washing and lawns that needed attending to – only of course after I drop our two year old at school (I mean, really, can’t he walk at his age?) At this point I unadvisedly vocalised the lovely idea that it might be for me to go to the movies for the morning. But, as every husband has learnt, making such an intention plain will all too often expose it to the veto of one’s better. The smarter course is to refrain from burdening your spouse with such a detail (and happily implement your plan when no such veto is possible).
So household jobs having been finished, I then spent no insignificant portion of my morning convincing prospective employers that they should hire me.
I refer to your frightfully enticing position of Overall Process Coordinator as advertising in The Weekly Interesting magazine that I may or may not be a subscriber to.
I have spent seven years of my life working with stationery, office equipment, and other humans and I believe (in the very depths of my being) that I am amazing.
Please contact me at your earliest, or latest, convenience and I will be dreadfully excited.
Whilst writing such letters, and completing job application forms, I have of course been listening to musicals, and spending time with my pets (I notice THEY don’t have jobs, but no one mentions that – the inexcusable double-standards of our own society in evidence.). This morning it has been Phantom of the Opera and now it’s Les Miserables – and I must confess that it is touching me in a being-downtrodden-in-Europe-in-the 19th-Century sort of way.
Now I have just entered into the realisation that not all of my household jobs are in fact finished. It is true. The lawns await me.
Signing off for now brethren…. Be strong for me…..