Hello all
I’m just going to have a little bitch here OK.
Over a month ago I applied to a job in shop. I used to work in a factory, and the shop is one of many, many shops selling the produce of said factory. I have also previously worked in another shop. And other jobs. I also have an actual bachelor of science degree, doncha know.
And this week I finally got a reply from said shop. “Dear Miss French, thank you very much for your application, while your CV was very impressive this time we have decided not to take you forward to our interview process.” Over and out.
My question: WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO. YOU ARE A SHOP. I HAVE WORKED IN SHOPS. I SHOP. I HAVE WORKED FOR YOUR COMPANY. Literally what.
And just to PILE it on, I was working in my capacity as charity mugger at a ploughing match (we have those in England) with others of my conservation organisation who carry out actual conservation. Asked the head honcho how he got into it – his job is what I want my job to be.
He worked in the printing industry for 20 years and became assistant conservation officer because he ‘fancied a change’. And then got promoted.
What. The. Actual. Heck.
Hate to be a whining millennial but I do feel the deck’s somehow stacked against us. I’m qualified for his job but I will never ever get into it because folk with no degree who worked 20 years in printing are now sitting in those jobs, somehow deciding what to do with wildlife. I’m not saying he’s not qualified because obviously NOW he is, with experience. But how come I can have a degree in the actual niche subject, experience, and it’s not enough to get me into a SHOP?! Let alone conservation. He just wandered in because he felt like it and now it’s folk like him sitting on the interview panels deciding we’re not good enough without a PhD, a private jet and a unicorn.
I gotta listen to Cantique de Jean Racine to chill out a bit. 10/10 recommend. YouTube.
So I’m looking at PhDs now to give myself an edge, just gotta steal that private jet and get onto Queen JK about where to find me a unicorn next.
Can I also just have a separate little rant that I’ve worked this shitty job all day on a Sunday (I know now it’s Friday, but I wrote this in a bitter mood on Sunday – I write when I want and post them later, very few of my blog posts are written off the cuff – is that good or bad?), I worked an extra hour unpaid out of sheer desperation, and I’ve spent the day in so much pain I was actually sweating and shaking, but I have not sat down at all. Because it is That Time. Secret Lady Time which we must never mention. It SUCKS. I know half the world knows exactly what I mean. The other half probably has an idea. I think if what I felt like today had been caused by anything other than a period I’d 100% have gone home sick because I felt like I was gonna vom for about three hours as well. But to add insult to injury I had to stand there with a massive grin on my face and be the chirpiest person you’ve ever seen whilst dying inside. Also, honourary mention to period shits which I have always had, and only recently discovered, thanks to a Facebook comment thread, that I am not alone in. For a whole week. Every time. This makes it so much more fun, stop, I can’t handle.
Yours slightly resentfully,
Georgie
In Other News, Nothing Funny Happens To Me Any More
Because I never see anyone. Even my parents are on holiday this week and they’re usually good value, e.g. when I go out for a walk.
Mum: Who did you go out with?
Me, for the forty-ninth time: Myself and I. As always. Why do you always ask me this as though I have friends?!
(I do but why must they all live 200 miles away minimum?! WHY?)
Except the one friend Katherine who I went to the pub with last week and with whom I proceeded to intoxicate myself with one and a half pints of lager, and spill my guts and my beer. Love you babes. Also Bezzie and BF are coming up next week and the week after about which I am THRILLED. Watch this space.
thoughtsunqualified 