Workin’ In The Shitty

Working in the big smoke is an exciting prospect. However, the novelty doesn’t last long, and for most people, feelings of hope soon dwindle, replaced only by two and a half pairs of torn stockings and the discovery of a salami slice firmly pressed to the bottom of their backpack. For me, it lasted all of about 5 minutes.  As I stood at the train station next to all the business/city people with their business haircuts and neatly-pressed attire, I pondered on all sorts of worldly things, like which sadistic bastard green-lit the manufacturing and sale of the pencil skirt to the universe at large.

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All of us radiated an air of importance as if the task of unpacking the staff lunch room dishwasher was definitely not part of our role description.

No, we were all part of the ‘elite’ workforce – working for big corporations who had the funds to do things like provide bottled water for staff each day or at least to clients who had to schedule in meetings because no one dreamed of transferring a call through to the ‘executive staff’. That is, the group of middle-aged white men rarely seen in the building (plus that other woman who hangs around them but looks too cold to be one of their wives, so must be a lesbian).

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The train pulled up. A face which is pressed up against the glass train door before it opened looked frightened to see that more people were planning to head into the city via the train carriage they were in. I shuffled in formation and looked at the back of the head of someone who was getting on the train before me. Then I saw myself surrounded by multiple heads and I was in limbo with no discernible pole or handle to cling to. Work-related stress took another victim that day.

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So there we were, jammed against each other, like an orgy of first-timers, too polite to make the first move. It was the Sardine Express and that only just began to describe the smell. My thoughts of grandeur with the big city/successful life image died somewhere between my first taste of arm-pit and with having a handbag grazing my buttocks on every slight turn.

Happy Monday, I thought.

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Society Has Gone To The Dogs

Do you enjoy handling mounds of shit? Have you ever thought that your most treasured possessions would look better if they were shredded to bits? Do you crave that feeling of being clawed at and bitten?
Perhaps you need professional help. Or maybe you would like to spend an equally large amount of money and take care of a puppy.

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Pure Evil

Yes, they are cute. We can all agree on that. Those that deny it should also seek medical help. But they are diabolical geniuses; masterminds intent on exploiting every little slither of weakness in your plan to keep them well-behaved, safe and within the boundaries you have selected as their home ground. It’s a battle to be top dog in this dog eat dog world, and being an underdog will leave you dog-tired and doggone being treated like a dog. It’s ruff, etc, something about being bad to the bone, etc, etc.

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Natural Born Killer

Suffice it to say, the fantasy of new lifestyle was imagined, a transaction took place, a puppy was bought and our dream of being calm, easy-going dog owners very quickly went out the window.

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“There will be no mercy.”

ADVICE GIVEN TO DOG OWNER: If your dog bites you, simply ignore this behaviour.
REALITY: Ow. What the.. Oh my god. I’m bleeding. Move. Everyone, get out of my way. I’m bleeding. Oh God, she’s chasing me. She not done with me. Run!

ADVICE GIVEN TO DOG OWNER: If your dog has a toilet accident, do not show that you are mad at them.
REALITY: *Steps barefoot out of the shower into dog poo*
*Realisation*
*Pause*
*Silences anger*
*Eye twitches*
*Smoke begins to appear from ears*
*Blood vessel in forehead bursts*
*Sound of shower being turned on again*

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Stone-cold bitch.

I would advise would-be dog owners to really think about what they are getting into:

  • Are you sure you want to interact with something that is not and never will be a deadbeat human being?
  • Are you prepared for an amazing companion that will love you 12-15 years?
  • Are you certain you wouldn’t prefer the affection and attention that a goldfish can offer you?

You have been warned.

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“I eat pieces of shit like you for breakfast.”

What University Has Taught Me

No cares about my opinion:
It’s true. Any time I put my personal thoughts in a written paper it is inevitably circled in red pen with the comment “No need for this.” Well, I’m sorry Professor Dumbledore or whatever but that is just rude.
Apparently if no one of ‘worthiness’ thought of the idea you are expressing then it is batshit crazy to include it because, as we all know, only the most brilliant minded people have PhDs. People like Richard Branson, Bill Gates, Mark Zuckerberg… wait a minute.

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There are too many research papers:
Academics are seriously scraping the barrel and determined to find data on things we didn’t need to know (See lolmythesis.com if you are not convinced). A favourite of mine is titled “The effect of antidepressants on righting behavior in marine and freshwater snails”. True story.
You can also bet there are a ton of students who decided to watch chicks on TV and disguise their viewing as research. Papers such as “Portrayals of Lesbian and Bisexual Women in American TV Shows” and “Representations of Female Identity in Orphan Black” make me wish I too had thought of that before foolishly enrolling into the sciences.

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Money is the end goal:
You can’t put a price on aiming for academic success. Oh wait, yes you can. And it ain’t cheap.
Isn’t it funny how the extra debt you have acquired in trying to be qualified for a higher paying job means you need a higher paying job to pay it off? The scientific formula is shown thusly:
Success = Salary – (Crippling Debts x Years) 
Alternatively you can stop being a ‘lazy’ student and just get a full-time job while you complete your full-time study. It’s not rocket surgery.

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Not all qualifications are created equally:
No one really respects the fact that you have an ‘Arts’ Degree. And after completing a subject in the Arts Faculty called ‘Reality Television’, neither do I. In fact, most people don’t know what what an Arts degree is so it is probably best if you don’t correct them when they ask “Oh Arts? Painting is it?”
The general consensus on the outcome of most qualifications are as follows:
Marketing = Future spruiker in a shopping centre
International Studies = Probably a foreinger likely to commit treason
Nursing / Teaching = Gluttons for punishment
Journalism = Future horoscope writer
Law = Bullshit artist
Science = “How come we can land a man on the moon but you can’t cure cancer or fix climate change?”
Fine Arts = Spent three years to master the art of splatter painting à la Jackson Pollack. (aka “I could do that”).

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You can never be fully prepared:
In fact when it comes to the real world, university really doesn’t prepare you at all.
What’s that? You have a degree? Sorry, but the economy completely went down the toilet while you were doodling away at your little college. Do you have any barista skills?

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How to Move House Efficiently and Effortlessly

Moving house can be an overwhelming task; it is time consuming and quickly becomes evident that you have way too much crap and not enough brain capacity or physical space to deal with it all. With this in mind, we have created a guide on how to move house without the added burden of actually getting your shit organised. Just by following these simple steps you can cut down on the clutter and move into your new place with ease.

Moving House 101:

  • This is not the time to get sentimental, old school books and childhood toys belong in the bin along with any other remnants of broken dreams.
  • Realise that you only wear maybe four entirely different outfits and that the rest come under the ‘only suitable as sleepwear’ category. If you wouldn’t be caught dead outside wearing it then let someone at the charity store decide if they will be.
  • Forget about how much money new furniture will cost and assume you will somehow acquire vast new amounts of money in your new house. Become the local hero and have the charity shop come and pick up all your furniture for donation. You will probably be back within days to buy it back at an inflated cost, but if the delivery fee is less than the moving van would have cost then you, my friend, are a genius.

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  • Question whether you really need to bring those board games to the new house. You know, the ones you intend to play with your supposed friends during a weekly games night that has so far been a mere fantasy in your life?
  • Give away every glass item you have to avoid having to wrap anything with care.
  • Books you have no intention of ever finishing or reading again can graciously find there way next the fifteen copies of ’50 Shades of Grey’ in the charity shop.

  • Say adios to that novelty sombrero you have hanging up. There are enough photos on Facebook for everyone to remember how carefree and fun you are. We get it, you were the life of the party that one night.
  • Your plastic Christmas tree has seen better days. Let it die in dignity on your front lawn, awaiting a better life as landfill via the council garbage truck. It’s what baby Jesus would have wanted.
  • If you are unsure of an item, put it in a garbage bag, then let it get lost in the mess and eventually throw it out by mistake.
  • Get brutal with every cup, fork, spoon, pen, piece of paper, DVD, pair of sunglasses, light bulb, spare battery and every single other bit of anything that you ever had the idiocy to drag into the house. Tell yourself that everything minuscule, insignificant thing that is anywhere inside this house needs to be found, touched, sorted and moved somewhere else. Knowing this usually builds enough stress to make you chuck out anything regardless of value. Cull it like its hot.

If My Résumé Reflected My Real Life

According to all the unread emails in my inbox, falsely enhancing what you have can give off a much better impression and generate lots of interest.
My résumé has been a prime example of this.

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They say the odd ‘white lie’ doesn’t hurt anybody, but it seems my CV (Contrived Version) has now become a snowballing list of tweaked truths. I use the term ‘truths’ because there is a certain level of truth hidden in there. Somewhere.

  • Yes, I went to a school.
    No, I am not going to put its real name because it is in a suburb usually following the phrase “The low socio-economic area of…”
    Why don’t we all agree I went to Affluent Sydney Girls College for the Smart, Rich and Beautiful? And hell, let’s just say I was school president or whatever and that I given an award as the ‘least desperately unemployable graduate’ or something because if I’ve now gotten myself in this deep anyway.

 

  • Yes, I have had some form of job.
    No, I will not tell you exactly what I did in that job. I will tell you the kind of tasks you are expecting me to do in this next job. I mean, does the person whose job is to “stand on the corner waving to cars whilst dressed as a pizza slice” write that on their résumé? Do they?
    And if you are looking for someone to do a task that I know I definitely can’t do I will say I have only completed this task “under supervision” or “under instruction”, which means I will expect you to give me full supervision and exact instructions on how the hell to do this task once I’m employed.

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It’s a wonder how I would even manage to fill a complete page if my résumé actually reflected my real life.
I believe if I ever was to hand over a brutally honest version of my current skills and strengths it may look a little more like this:

 

Strengths:

  • I work extremely well when I know my boss is watching.
  • I once ate a family-sized pizza by myself in a single sitting.
  • I am never late on days when I know the people who might dob me in are there.
  • Very neatly presented when I cover my coffee stains with a sweater.
  • Able to appear to be busy, tired and stressed even when avoiding duties.
  • I can do 2.5 complete rotations on a swivel chair with one push.

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Skills:

  • I am particularly skilled at stretching out my lunch break to the absolute maximum time possible.
  • Fluent in Solitaire and Tetris.
  • Have gotten “pretending to laugh at the boss’ jokes” down to a fine art.
  • Typing speed of 100+ words / minute if accuracy is not a concern.
  • Compatible with Safari and Google on iPhone systems; willing to learn how to not ‘right-click’ on Mac desktop systems.
  • Ability to check Facebook whilst performing other tasks.
  • Read something somewhere relating to OH&S stuff.

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Interests:

  • Getting paid.
  • Anything outside of work.

 

Everybody seeking my services, please form an orderly queue.

Good Grammar or Die

Now I’m not a snob nor am I perfect, most of the time, but when it comes to spelling and grammar, if you wish to communicate with me I expect you to be on your A-game.

Sure, there are some errors I may be able to bring myself to overlook, especially if you are good-looking, but there are other cases where I will simply will not show any mercy.

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I have listed here a general guide for anyone wishing to interact with me which can also be applied to anyone whose Facebook status updates, due to friendship, I am forced to endure.

Rule 1:
“His so cute.”
= No.

Rule 2:
“I went their to use there pool.”
= No. No, you did not.

Rule 3:
“I should of said.”
= No, you should not have.

Rule 4:
“Definately.”
= No.

Rule 5:
“Your so right.”
= So wrong.

Rule 6:
“Its hot in here.”
= ’tisn’t

Rule 7:
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Rule 8:
“It was to short.”
= ‘fraid not.

Rule 9:
“Me and my friends went.”
= Nope.

Rule 10:

“I’m taller then you.”
= What?

Rule 11:
“I seen him.”
= Nope.

Rule 12:
“I already done that.”
= Not even close.

Rule 13: 
“I want to loose weight.”
= How?

Rule 14:
“Whose going to the party?”
= Is he?

Rule 11:
“I didnt no were yous where.”
= Kill me now.


Jobs You Couldn’t Pay Me Enough To Do

Ok, so a job is a job. I get it. We all need money. Trust me, I do understand – in fact, while we are on the topic, can I borrow a fiver? I’m good for it, I swear.

Anyway, let’s face it, some jobs are better than others. …And some jobs suck so bad that unemployment begins to seem like a step up in the world.

I have had a few jobs in my time; some good, some buried in my consciousness and deleted entirely from my resume`.

For the most part, being an adult and having to go to work is not the barrel of laughs and riches I envisioned when playing ‘mummies and daddies’ as a child. In fact, there are some jobs which I have now come to realise that you couldn’t pay me enough to do.

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Being a chef:

Learning amazing culinary skills only to spend your time sweating in front of stove with a millions orders being thrown at you and Gordon-Ramsay-style management going on around you sounds like a nightmare. A kitchen nightmare. From what I’ve heard most chefs end up feeding their kids two-minute noodles because they have spent too much of their time already cooking for other people. Sure you can cook great food, but its probably best to kept that secret to yourself and work in less stressful environment. Unless you enjoy working under pressure, in which case WRITE YOUR OWN DAMN LIST OF BAD JOBS.

Working in the fashion industry:

First all I would probably be sent home on day one anyway not only because I have cheap (read: terrible) fashion sense but because I would be rolling my eyes so frequently that it would appear I had contracted some sort of illness. And don’t get me started on female runway models because if I had to work as some sort of assistant to one of those aliens I would be living in absolute fear of being stepped on by their giant legs or accidentally breaking one of their rib bones as I brushed past them towards the catering cart.

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Cleaning:

Self-explanatory really. I barely clean my own messes up, so don’t expect me to start cleaning up yours. Any job toilet-related or containing the words “bodily fluids” and yep, you guessed it, that price just can’t go high enough.

Working for a fast-food chain:

Ok, so most of us have all been there or are currently trapped there; in that middle ground (Mordor) between student and “adulting”. To put it bluntly, on a good day you will most likely encounter incompetent management by ‘senior’ staff members who are neither your superior by age nor intellectual capacity.

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Working in retail:

Again, most of us have been here and some days that measly minimum wage just isn’t cutting it for what is (sometimes literally) thrown at you. Let’s just say, adequate training for this job should be to practise how to delicately navigate your way around the following scenario: “An irate customer hands you a product and says they want their money back. You repeatedly explain (sans cursing) to this moron customer that you cannot give them any money back for the product because they A) do not have a receipt for it and B) they did not buy it from this store. They continue to hand you product and say they want their money back. You repeatedly explain (sans cursing) to this dimwit customer that you cannot give them any money back for the product because they A) do not have a receipt for it and B) they did not buy from this store. They continue to hand you product and say they want their money back.”

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