THE SLOW DESCENT INTO MADNESS AND OBLIVION ENTRY
This sucks.
This *really* sucks.
Went for an interview last Thursday morning. That's *nearly* a working week ago... will be at around 6pm BST. It was the first thing I did last Thursday morning. At 9:30 AM I went for the interview.
Now, I have heard absolutely nothing, zip, de nada, bugger all. Not yes, not no, not we will get back to you by x time. No. Just we will leave you hanging, and hanging, and hanging, and hanging...
And while I don't *have* a job I must continue on the basis that I *will not* have a job by the time everything goes through. I have to consider selling all my furniture, taking a bunch of stuff down to the dump and selling my flat as if they are real possibilities of things that could actually happen to me. I have to. Because time is running out. If they don't offer me a job until two weeks today it will actually be too late for me to accept it, because I won't have enough money to make my payments in the first week of June. And I was told by the woman who sent me for the interview that they wanted the posts filled ASAP. Well this is nowhere fucking near ASAP. I haven't been able to eat or sleep properly now for three fucking days waiting for this call. I sit in my lounge and am back to staring at the stupid fucking phone that doesn't fucking ring and feel like just walking away, locking the door and never coming back.
Because in the end I am surrounded by shit I have accumulated that I really don't need. The pursuit of a job to fulfil the requirement of keeping a bunch of crap I neither need nor want is just surreal and being responsible to a bunch of minerals, plastics, sheets of paper and various other inanimate objects is not really worth my while getting ill over. I know this. If I could just fill up the boot of my car and leave I would. But I can't. Not yet. The worst part is the hope that it might be alright. And these fuckers with THREE positions to fill, fucking THREE. Who seemed to like me at the interview and shook my hand warmly, not vaguely but WARMLY as I walked out of their offices are making me so ill that I might go from having been ill in my last job through a period of stress filled uncertainty that made me ill to the possible beginning of a stressful new job that makes me... yes.. ill.
I am tired. I am ill. I don't want to play anymore.
This sucks.
This *really* sucks.
Went for an interview last Thursday morning. That's *nearly* a working week ago... will be at around 6pm BST. It was the first thing I did last Thursday morning. At 9:30 AM I went for the interview.
Now, I have heard absolutely nothing, zip, de nada, bugger all. Not yes, not no, not we will get back to you by x time. No. Just we will leave you hanging, and hanging, and hanging, and hanging...
And while I don't *have* a job I must continue on the basis that I *will not* have a job by the time everything goes through. I have to consider selling all my furniture, taking a bunch of stuff down to the dump and selling my flat as if they are real possibilities of things that could actually happen to me. I have to. Because time is running out. If they don't offer me a job until two weeks today it will actually be too late for me to accept it, because I won't have enough money to make my payments in the first week of June. And I was told by the woman who sent me for the interview that they wanted the posts filled ASAP. Well this is nowhere fucking near ASAP. I haven't been able to eat or sleep properly now for three fucking days waiting for this call. I sit in my lounge and am back to staring at the stupid fucking phone that doesn't fucking ring and feel like just walking away, locking the door and never coming back.
Because in the end I am surrounded by shit I have accumulated that I really don't need. The pursuit of a job to fulfil the requirement of keeping a bunch of crap I neither need nor want is just surreal and being responsible to a bunch of minerals, plastics, sheets of paper and various other inanimate objects is not really worth my while getting ill over. I know this. If I could just fill up the boot of my car and leave I would. But I can't. Not yet. The worst part is the hope that it might be alright. And these fuckers with THREE positions to fill, fucking THREE. Who seemed to like me at the interview and shook my hand warmly, not vaguely but WARMLY as I walked out of their offices are making me so ill that I might go from having been ill in my last job through a period of stress filled uncertainty that made me ill to the possible beginning of a stressful new job that makes me... yes.. ill.
I am tired. I am ill. I don't want to play anymore.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
keep well
BTW Virgin are doing The Shield seasons 1 and 2 as buy one get one free I remembered your positive frothing and treated myself. Summat to look forward to after this weekend's out of the way...