2004-08-28

Temping is like being a prostitute who's good with Excel spreadsheets - you feel fucked at the end of long day but at least everything balances.

Finally have some money to go to the supermarket with and am most pleased at being able to buy a new battery for the Volksie (which incidentally I am selling asap as the Volvo, Ann Frid, has wormed her way into my heart). All the creative stuff has fallen by the wayside for a week, but I reckon i can get back on track next week, and even go to the gym or something to try and work off all the Gloria Jean's caramelattes that I have been scoffing.

Am working at RMIT as PA for a head of school (fancy title for keeping a head honcho's diary in order). Being the ingenue I am I didn't even realise that when I got a call from Professor Gibson the other day I was speaking to the Chancellor of the whole uni. CRumbs. I can't remember if I was nice or not, but I guess I was seeing as I was still on the payroll. Hmmmm, funny thing authority. The bottom line is I guess that big fancy jobbed people are just ordinary people who go to extraordinary lengths to make sure that other hear and obey. I wonder how that kind of job interview goes?

Boss: so, why do you want this job

Potential Honcho: cause I love paperwork

Boss: where do you see yourself in five years?

Honcho: in the middle of a media blitz arguing about my controversial leadership style

Boss: Name your five best skills

Honcho: Ordering people to make me coffee, sitting in an office for 12 hours a day looking like I am handling paperwork, creating large Excel spreadsheets that no-one can understand, spending the travel budget for a year on one trip, and writing the occasional controversial treatise on blood puddings.

Boss: well done, you're hired

Or at least that's how I think it would go. Time to go and walk - its a beautiful day and I'm not goning to waste it here.

bitch - moan