"Where the hell have you been?" I hear you ask...
Well. I've been on holiday.Croatia. It's very nice. My best friend wedded the love of her life and I was lucky enough to witness it in a beautiful, yellow bridesmaids dress. And no, I'm not being sarcastic.
The whole holiday was beautiful. I really did not want to come home.
Something that I have learnt over the years is to never go on holiday if you're in a job that you detest. You start having dark thoughts. And I mean really dark.
The kind where you wish that you could pull a "Cheryl Cole" and get malaria so that you don't have to go back to work. But apparently Croatia is not particularly famous for its malaria epidemic. I still got bitten. But instead of a dramatic, sick-paid illness, I got red, itchy bumps all over me. Including my nipple. My left breast looks like it's got two heads.
Anyway that's by-the-by.
It's no secret that I hate my job. It's pants.
I'm lucky enough to have a cracking superior (no that's not a euphemism) but she's currently on holiday. Thus I'm stuck with a colleague who is not exactly the sharpest knife in the chopping block and he looks like a dinosaur (no he's not old, but the similarity of his bone structure is uncanny to a velociraptor).
He also has the temper of one. Whenever he loses it I imagine him running into a mirror with my reflection in it out of confusion and knocking himself out. I'm sure that's happened before. My mind wanders at work.
Is it professionally slutty of me to want a better job with more money?
When that statement is relaid onto boyfriends it has ethical and moral implications...
Yet with employment it's deemed appropriate, almost encouraged.
Sometimes even the intellect or content of the job or applicant is not relevant. It's all about the money. The status. That job.
My job has no money or status.
No I'm not fishing or feeling sorry for myself. It's an accurate description of my employment.
But I do have my health. And a bicycle.
My mom keeps telling me "The right job will come along soon. The others were just not meant to be. When it's right you'll know."
Hmmmmmm...
Replace the word job... with man...
Ah yes! She was saying that same thing to me just over a year ago.
I'm becoming increasingly worried about the similarities between employment and boyfriends.
What do I expect from a job?
- Reasonable income
- Close location
- Not always perfect but primarily good
- Great benefits
- A clean, pleasant environment
- Satisfaction
Erm... yes. Definitely similar. Except with slightly more sex. You can get sacked otherwise.
Am I an employment whore? Or a relationship saint?
Perhaps I'm neither. Perhaps I'm both.
Oh just shut up woman and get back to job hunting!
Watch this space...