Wednesday 4 January 2012

Lusting after jobs (amongst other things)

Too Much Time: Too Many Boys


I am spending far too much time with the boys.


How do I know this?


I woke up at 5am this morning and I could hear my liver crying. By 7am I was contemplating removing my own kidneys. Pain. In.The. Back.


Plus I have widened my sexual innuendo, double entendre, pun repertoire.


And my best friend Blondie texted me after she left me in the pub on Tuesday night saying;


"Put down the pint of cider and step away from them."


Upon reviewing my text messages of that evening I had sent her a load of incomprehensible babble. Besides, it was already too late by the time I got that message. I had already started on the whiskey and the conversation had become suitably undone. I am sure hanging around with these manboys prevents me from ever actually meeting anyone. 


Further, when Blondie and Dr T and I were out drinking with betterthangoogle and Mr Bee on Tuesday; betterthangoogle and Mr Bee proposed that were not the girliest of girls.


True. Blondie is a black belt ninja and Dr T has spent a great proportion of her time over the past ten years analysing and sequencing the spines of insects, or something like that. And I? Yes, I do my nails, go to the beautician, blah,blah,blah but there is something inherent in my personality that means I act in quite a masculine fashion. 


Girlieness


I tried to start to combat this on Wednesday morning by watching "Confessions of a Shopaholic"  on iplayer. I did not laugh. Once. I wanted to cry and rip my eyeballs out and smear them across my laptop. I stopped watching it. From this experience I have thus concluded that I must, on a daily basis (even if I don't leave the house) wear my "DareDevil" red lipstick so that when men see me and I am talking as if I am a man that they are so distracted by my big red lips that they ignore my banter and only think about kissing me.  I must remember to thank Professor Robert Winston for that insight. After stopping aforementioned chickflick I found a documentary of his about the science of sexual attraction and the behaviours of men and women. 


Again, this is probably where I am going wrong - looking at things from a scientific perspective. How very stereotypically male of me.


Which leads me to my next point...
How does this affect me in the job market?


Does my face fit?


I am by no means an unattractive female.I am not exceptional either. People do, other than my nan, tell me I am pretty; often they are men on the street clutching cans of Special Brew. 


Yet my face does not seem to fit. Ever. So I guess it is time for me to look beyond the physicality of it all (this thought process surely means I am quite girly?). 


It did not fit well in my last job. I did my job. I did it well. I enjoyed it. It did not fit well when I was at university. Or at school. Which leads me to another conclusion - I am an exceptionally difficult person to get on with. Not intentionally. But this just seems to be the status quo. 


Now, I don't particularly want to go to job club this week or next week or ever. I fear I may have a physical reaction to it - perhaps anaphylactic shock or I may actually take my eyeballs out. But I have to go as it is one of my action points. So I am going to ask them at job club, what is it I can do, to make myself seem more pleasant and less difficult. A good team player (other than in the realms of pubquizdom). I need to do something about it. And after speaking to my Job Centre Advisor today about my interview this week, she assures me that Job Club will have the answers.


It better, or I am going to go to my GP and demand CBT, a gastric bypass and a face lift.


Here's to hoping my face fits on Friday and that they don't think the lipstick is too much! (And that I can find a way to rap in the interview). 

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