UTTER FUCKING COCK. I just accidentally lost several pages of update. Bastard.
11.2.10
Today is JobCentre day. Up I get for brekkie as usual. I hit the centre a bit early and trawl the crappy touchscreens for anything that looks plausable. The man at the desk looks embarrased at the sheer number of things I’ve applied for that are noted ’stuff I don’t have required’ or ’no reply’. He checks out my selections and pointlessly adds several of his own. We briefly discuss my life, he smiles and says helpful things. I leave.
Armed with my wide variety of employment printouts I get back on the bike and head into town. Or Not. I get to the top of Leith Walk before realizing I have nowhere to go. I’ve been asked to stay away from Bread Street and there isn’t anywhere else. I have no friends I know would welcome me in, I can’t afford buy a coffee and just relax, or to go charity shopping. There are no places to just go and hang out without purpose. So I turn around and head back to the B&B, and from there get applying.
If you’ve never tried it, please know that jobhunting with an iPhone on an iffy 3G connection is unpleasant. The device itself is wonderful, and can to things I would not have dreamed of only 5 years ago. But trying to fill in application forms online is a soul destroying experience. Of the 10+ jobs I have to apply for, two of them provide useable phone numbers [no replies yet], four send me to online forms and the rest require qualifications I don’t have. [I only discover this later]. It’s amazing how many jobs don’t advertise their essential qualififcations. So some 4 hours later I have [I think] applied for some jobs. Assuming the web forms got through. That done I get gather myself to go to Ainsley Park for their Early Bird position.
I ask at the reception desk. A vague looking woman shouts at her supervisor until he pays attention, then declares that it’s online only ‘No it isn’t’ I reply ‘the online link leads to a PDF which is read-only and thus useless without a printer, which I do not have’ ‘Oh’ she says ‘ Do you have the undeclared but essential poolside certificate thingumy that you must have for this job’ ‘No I do not,’ I reply ‘nor did I know I needed it. Shall I simply leave, then, given that I cannot possibly get the job that your advertising department did not disclose essential information for?’. ‘Oh’ she said. I left.
Back to my old flat, where I unboxed my very large tea collection into a plastic bag, along with rather a lot of DVDs. Not all of them, annoyingly. I also did not have space for my coffee or tea pots. I fail at packing.
Then down to Daughters, where I left the DVDs [much to her mothers annoyance]. I then had a walk to Farmfoods with Daughter and ex-wife, which was pleasant enough. When we got back to their flat there was an interesting discussion, in which ex-wife expressed her concern that some people find her cheerfulness disturbing. I agreed that sometimes her overly joyful demeanor is actively oppressive. I simply cannot keep up, and this is the cause of occasional mild psychological trauma. But she is happy, she explains. She has everything she wants in life, and cannot pretend to be miserable when she is not.
Would I not be happy, she asks, if I was married to Wioleta and living in a nice house with our children and a well paid job? Oddly this question depresses me beyond any manner I could have remotely expected, and I leave shortly afterwards, carefully making no further comments.
I get back to B&B and attempt to watch Prophecy, but the video is tiny and I give up [forced letterboxing to about 4"] and read The Blade Itself instead, while posting gubbins to Twitter and FaceBook. I do get some nice messages from Alisdair, Andrew and Fergus, which is cheering. I may actually see some people I know in the near future!! UNfortunately Fergus has not given me contact details so I will not see him tonight. Damn.
S
