I do *not* look good in sunlight

I'm awake.


Of course. Mum's neighbour friend sits on the door bell with the crack of dawn. I can't blame her 'cause she's always so nice, but do not ring my bell before eight!


So I go back to bed and I can't really sleep, but I'll doze off a bit more since my neck is stiff and I press it and squeeze it to prevent the nerve inflammation I'm so wonderfully prone to, but my hand is tired and it's too painful and I just give up and roll over, trying to find a position which is the least disturbing.


I manage to doze of, only to get awaken by a Skype call. I'm on Away, but that's OK. It's my officer from Perth. I sit up in my bed and can't even come to my senses, so I contact her to call me again.


After a total of two minutes, the electricity goes out and the call is terminated. So third world.


I slip on a pair of trousers and a shirt and run to my friend's house. Being that he lives in Austria and that no one seems to be at home, I subtly stand in his front yard, leeching off his WiFi and trying to explain to my co-worker-to-be two continents away why there's cars and buses passing me by.


Mental note: do not stand in the sunlight with a camera showing how you look close up in the morning.


And the day has only just begun...

Preparation, shmeparation

So, it's more and more interesting and exciting. Well, in my head at least.

Taking in account that the last interview went really good, I'm hoping the one with the boss will also go well. I've been preparing, reading up, reading on and gathering as much info as I can for the interview.

I got two letters of recommendation from my university professors, so that should help a bit. I also got a copy of the Journal that published my professional work. Weird to see one’s own name on the Contents page.

I still think it's quite exciting that we live in a world where job interviews, college lectures and group chats are taking place online, via Skype. I might as well be just a bit too nooby, but I still think it's awesome. To bring all those possibilities even closer and make them even more real. Isn't that great?

In any case, I'm eager to welcome the upcoming Monday and talk to the boss.

As I was telling Anna last night, I don't wanna end up disappointed, but on the other hand, I think this might be a good time to finally start thinking on a more positive side. I'm sure many of the people who know me would agree.

So, I can only hope for the best, hope that the boss likes me, as well as my résumé and that I get the job offer. If that happens, I'll start squeaking or wheezing or giggling or something.

But that'd only be a short embarrassing moment at the beginning of a new, lovely story.

A copy of the Journal that published my professional paper

Mad and excited

I'm both mad and excited.

Mad with what's been going on here and what we're going to be facing in the near future. It doesn't seem as bright as one would hope for. The global situation is as it is, worse in some parts and better in some parts. Naturally, we consider the areas which are closest to ours and we try to follow the events as much as possible.

But when the only thing being spoken about is the crisis, the lack of finances and opportunities, the dim future, prices going up and pay checks going down, working era prolonged to seventy-five and so on, what is one supposed to think? What should one hope for and aspire to?

I look at my parents, both retired and struggling and I know they're hating it all. I look at my brother, head of sales in a big firm here, with a decent pay check and his own house, a wife who's also working and three kids, and he's still struggling. So, what am I supposed to do? Almost living, living in a place owned by my parents, with no work or any potential openings in the near future...

Am I supposed to work in a store for the rest of my life? Did I struggle to get my Master's degrees for this? For staying at home, sending twenty job applications per day and hoping for the best?

Fuck that!

I'm going to swim across the sea if I have to, but I'm not staying here. I'm not giving another coin to these bastards here. Robbing their own people off their money, losing the elections and still robbing people. Until there's a situation like the one in Greece around here as well, we can only bend over and wait for another bump down the stairwell.

Taxes up to 25%, pay check going down, more and more retired people. Now that there's a lack of work force, even the employers who can afford to hire someone are going to expect a lot more money in the envelope that you bring to the interview. I mean, is this the world we're supposed to live in? Seriously?!

I'm not as brave as I'd like to be, but I'd stand up for a cause. If it's going to take these fuckers down, I'm up for it. But the thing is there's no guarantee that the ones after them won't be the same. It seems that this society is living by the get-what-you-can-while-you-can rule, filling their pockets while the power is on their side. It somehow reminds me of a scene in a movie.

And finally, I'm excited. Excited to new opportunities, as few as there are. I hope I'll be able to change my life, to get out of this misery, to budge and to make a difference. If nothing, at least for myself, in my head, for my family. After all, isn't that what we're all aiming for?

So, keep your fingers crossed...

No job, yes cry.

So, even after a couple of successful interviews (it's not only me who thought that, but the people I had the interviews with) I didn't get the job. Even after it was boiled down to one other guy and myself, I didn't get it. It must be the fact that I didn't go there all suited up and with my hair greased up like Mr Briefcase there.


The moron that I am, I was looking forward to it too much, hoping that it would finally click. Something that's a challenge, a job that I'd possibly like to work and in a company and an environment which seems OK, considering the circumstances.


But no, another slap in the face. Thanks.

Job search

I seriously think that online job applications are basically only the first tests in the line of so many more.

There must me a tiny little camera hidden somewhere, peeking into our living room, recording what we're doing, how we're acting when we're applying and, finally, what sort of swear words we're coming up with.

Seriously, one would think that multi-million-whichever-currency companies would have a proper web site where nothing will fail to load, collapse or cause your whole computer to freeze. How hard is it?

These must be the retardedest sites there are and those who make it through the application get a plus in a little notebook. Check - we're keeping this one, says a committee, dressed in white and hidden behind the glass wall.

Why doesn't my network never fail when I'm paying bills or when I'm getting bothered by someone on the chat?! It only drops dead all of a sudden when I'm writing a paper, uploading some files or - like now - in the middle of a job application.

I lost my nerves three times, completely and utterly pissed off by the whole situation that's going on. No job pisses me off, but looking for one definitely doesn't make me feel any better.

Fuck you and your fricken web site!

And if I don't get a job because of this post, so be it!

Fuck you!

I need a job to be able to party.

It must be one of those retarded paradoxes like Once one reaches nirvana, one is ready to cross over or One must look into oneself to fully see others or One must have nothing to gain everything.


Without a job I'm broke. Without a job I've got time to party. Without a job I don't have money to party. With a job I don't have the time to party.


With a job I don't have the will to do anything except shut down the blinds and turn up the music, so that I don't hear or see anything from the outside world.


Which brings me to the conclusion that I need a job to get money to make it work somehow and, finally, party. So, I need a job that doesn't involve people, that doesn't involve me sitting in an office all day long and which pays decent enough to be able to life off.


I don't need much really. I'm not into stuff and clothes and so. I like to get myself a little something from time to time, but when people ask me what I'd like (like my siblings or someone), I usually have no idea. Now that I think of it, I'm not sure whether it's good or bad.


In any case, the job search is on. I'm going global and I'm hoping I won't have to get out of my flat.


No people, no public transportation, no hassle. And I'll do anything.

The Job Market

So, I went to the employment office today. There are these group and individual meetings one has to attend, and today was the first group one I went to. Or better put, I had to go to. Don't you just love mandatory pointless stuff?

Living in a country with no real prospect can be a bit demotivating. Knowing there won't possibly be a job the agency will find for you, it kind of makes it all pointless. Maybe that's exactly why they made it mandatory. They have to pay the advisors somehow, don't they?

So I enter the room with around thirty chairs all laid around, fifteen of them around a big office desk and the rest just scattered around to fill in the space. There's some noise coming in through the window, most likely from someone who's actually got a job, as low paid as it could be.

We're sitting in there, from what it seems like, a sad bunch. A dozen of around-thirty women, all dressed up and hoping it will improve their chances; some younglings, fresh off from school or wherever, a head-shaped-incredibly-correctly black guy with the city accent; some wannabe-cool guys who probably hate being there so much; a couple of really scared-looking girls, freshly sacked from work just last Friday; and I.

The consultant treats us with a PowerPoint presentation, familiarizing us with our rights. There are no benefits whatsoever, or at least none that apply to me. I really don't see a reason for me to be sitting here, except the obvious one ― I have to.

I must seem like an ass to these people, sitting there, tucking in my notebook instead of taking notes heartedly. With my major and the jobs I could get in here, my chances are right around zero. When we consider jobs that are actually worth mentioning, the odds droop into the negative.

My face must be saying everyone that I simply hate being here. I don't know if it makes my cynical or double-faced, but I know there's nothing for me there. And this was only the first meeting. But I guess we'll see how long I keep up reporting there every month.

The PowerPoint has come to an end, so the consultant uses another opportunity to welcome us "to the World of Work". I shudder.