My Glittering Career.

I was going to write a piece about how moving to a new job today has made my work life not only more bearable, but downright exciting. I'm afraid that upon the evidence of my first day, that post will never be forthcoming. I've been disappointed many times in my life, but today I received a stark reminder of how easy it is to try something slightly different to further your life just a tad, and feel it really may have been a total waste of time.
So, without further ado, the positive aspects are as follows;

1 At least I tried, though not too hard.

2 My new working buddies are nice enough people, and one of them may even be able to teach me how swear in Russian since he hails from Latvia and that's his first language. This should come in handy when England lose to them (Russia)in the Euro cup qualifier on the plastic pitch.

3 The day seemed to go quite quickly because there wasn't a moment to rest.

4 All the food there is healthy, so should I choose to eat any of it, I may lose a few pounds or enjoy the flavour. This is an improvement on the last job which mainly sold chips to drongoes.

5 Having a shite working environment gives one the kick up the arse one may need to get a real job that pays enough to afford to eat in the type of establishment one currently works.

6 It made me realise that moaning about things just eventually leads full circle back to the fact that I live in the Western world with what's left of a welfare state so I only have to work part time in order to have a few of the basics in life that humans should globally have. There're one fuck of a lot of people out there on this planet who do not have those basics and never will, and they still have to work very hard indeed to afford what they do have.

Aaaaaaaand here are the downsides;

1 Thought of the day "If I have to wash one more fucking plate whilst stood on my aching feet in the forgotten corner of some sweaty striplit rabbithole up to my elbows in greasy lukewarm water whilst being forced to endure the aural soul destruction that is radio fucking one with it's smarmy fucking D.J.s playing music, 75% of which is aimed at emotionally retarded 14 year olds, arresting the extension of my personal growth boundaries with all the resilience usually associated of 16 foot thick reinforced concrete wall when under attack from a tooth pick, then I will seize power forthwith using violence and a lack of fairness to my fellow man that would make Robert Mugabe wince, crushing the system which has put me in a situation I find depressing enough to actually want an innocent passer by to toot their car horn at me whilst I'm on my bike so I can forcibly decapitate them and feed their grey matter to the nearest fat bastard fucking disease-ridden pigeon walking wobbly headed past the scene."

2 There's no number 2 because number 1 was so all encompassing in it's headfuckyness, it took me all day til I was home, washed, fed, and had tucked my son into his bed before I could really think past it.

So there!

I don't feel any better for that rant. Neither has it secured me an interview for a new position as an overpaid under worked member of society. It really is nobody's fault but mine that I'm in this predicament. Nobody else will remove me from it, it's all down to me. That's a bit depressing, because I have a tremendous aptitude for apathy an even utter laziness.

Where is my metaphoric knight in shining armour.

Perhaps their jobs were cut as part of a necessary downsizing of metaphorical heroes due to unforeseen financial instability. Maybe they all have jobs like mine now and are currently decrying them in front of a computer.

Oh well, maybe if I play my cards right, I could move on and one of them could have my job.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRGGHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kitchen Pig Has Left The Building!

A job is a job, it's been said. There is a singular straight philosophy to that which is hard to argue against. However, like all aspects of human life, once past the simplistic, the complex begins. Today, I have stopped working at the place I have worked for almost three years. It was not a first choice to begin working there to start with. My last job ended with wages owed. There was anger and disappointment. I needed another one fast, and as is often the case, haste produces a certain lack of choice, a removal of the type of logic we would all use if given the time to use it.

I wonder what next week holds in store for me.