Bring me my hat and cane!
Nov. 29th, 2006 08:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
changelingI must be doing something right.
I've had a bit of a Thing about finding jobs the last couple of years. There'll be nothing for ages, and then, just before the money runs out, I'll get an informal offer from the company my mum works for, or a freelance editing job or something.
Steph says that I should note that I'm a kept woman, and draw a weekly wage for my libidinous services (though I think the cooked meals she comes home to help).
I've been working the last couple of days as a data entry monkey for a company in Port Melbourne (We'll call them E1). My first temp company, D1, found it for me. It's hard slog, mostly because it involves long hours sitting in a chair doing nothing else, which hurts my neck and back.
The best part of the day was bumping into Jess and Geof on the tram on the way to work. They work at Oxbridge, which is right nearby. We were chatting, and Jess said that she'd heard that a position was opening up in Customer Service (where I interviewed only a month or two ago). Geof confirmed it, as he is in charge of putting the ad up tomorrow. I'm going to apply. (Steph, who is reading over my shoulder and being a little nuisance, said that these two are my Deep Throats – as in Watergate, not as in Linda Lovelace. Steph is whinging because she's home at the moment and isn't used to being Hausfrau.)
At 3.30, E1 asked me back again for tomorrow, though the contract finished today, then sent me home an hour and a half early as my supervisor was also buggering off. Why she couldn't have given me something to do to be going on with, I don't know, but it was lucky for me in the end. As I was walking (well, limping; I seem to have damaged my calf muscle) to the tram stop, I noted that I had a missed call on my mobile. It was from D1. I called them back and spoke to K——, the woman who seems to be managing my file this week (they have such a high turnover of staffing manager people, I can't tell you). She told me they'd just found me another job, starting tomorrow. I have NEVER had such a quick turn-around from D1 in my experience with them. As this job was closer to home, and lasted longer (until next Friday), turned out to pay slightly more, and, crucially, wasn't bloody data entry, I took it. K–– promised to lie on my behalf to E1. Apparently they're not allowed to say that the reason I can't have my contract extended is because D1 have found me other work. Oh –– and for the next two days I'll be paid about 20c more an hour than I was at this data entry job, and then that'll go up by another 50c an hour or so (once it hits December). Such is the mysterious ways of D1.
So, with all this good news about employment, I toddled off to Vegan Wares to attempt to buy myself some flat shoes. My brown pair nearly made me miss my tram as they are so enormous it's like trying to run in thongs*, and my red pair rub badly, and also are shite for work as both buckles have broken off. However, there was NO LOVE at Vegan Wares as I have fat (well, wide) AND small feet; also I didn't want black. I couldn't get the style I wanted – I wanted one of the lace-up styles (like this one), but that "last" is quite narrow. Due to absolutely none of the flat shoes being both in my size and not in black, I had to get them to make it to order, but on the plus side I will have GREEN SHOES in about two weeks' time.
Anyway, when I got home, I checked my email, and found a note from Dee that said that the company she works for is looking for another editor for some part-time sort-of-freelance work; so I responded immediately and said, YES, of course I was interested. I also had an email from the second temp company (D2), who have thus far been incommunicado (much to my disgust). The email went something like this.
To which I responded,
... only in more business-y language. Steph says that they did this to her, too. They sent her an email asking if she wanted out, WHILE SHE WAS WORKING A TWO-MONTH CONTRACT FOR THEM. No love for D2, the absolutely crazy people.
So, I hope these work out. It looks like an interesting December.
(P.S. We both had medical problems today. My ankle, where the calf muscle joins the bone, caused me enormous pain for the kilometres I walked, and Steph had decaying parts of bone drilled out of her head by our dentist, Captain No-Apology.)
*"Flip-flops", not, as Stephanie points out "the butt ones".
I've had a bit of a Thing about finding jobs the last couple of years. There'll be nothing for ages, and then, just before the money runs out, I'll get an informal offer from the company my mum works for, or a freelance editing job or something.
Steph says that I should note that I'm a kept woman, and draw a weekly wage for my libidinous services (though I think the cooked meals she comes home to help).
I've been working the last couple of days as a data entry monkey for a company in Port Melbourne (We'll call them E1). My first temp company, D1, found it for me. It's hard slog, mostly because it involves long hours sitting in a chair doing nothing else, which hurts my neck and back.
The best part of the day was bumping into Jess and Geof on the tram on the way to work. They work at Oxbridge, which is right nearby. We were chatting, and Jess said that she'd heard that a position was opening up in Customer Service (where I interviewed only a month or two ago). Geof confirmed it, as he is in charge of putting the ad up tomorrow. I'm going to apply. (Steph, who is reading over my shoulder and being a little nuisance, said that these two are my Deep Throats – as in Watergate, not as in Linda Lovelace. Steph is whinging because she's home at the moment and isn't used to being Hausfrau.)
At 3.30, E1 asked me back again for tomorrow, though the contract finished today, then sent me home an hour and a half early as my supervisor was also buggering off. Why she couldn't have given me something to do to be going on with, I don't know, but it was lucky for me in the end. As I was walking (well, limping; I seem to have damaged my calf muscle) to the tram stop, I noted that I had a missed call on my mobile. It was from D1. I called them back and spoke to K——, the woman who seems to be managing my file this week (they have such a high turnover of staffing manager people, I can't tell you). She told me they'd just found me another job, starting tomorrow. I have NEVER had such a quick turn-around from D1 in my experience with them. As this job was closer to home, and lasted longer (until next Friday), turned out to pay slightly more, and, crucially, wasn't bloody data entry, I took it. K–– promised to lie on my behalf to E1. Apparently they're not allowed to say that the reason I can't have my contract extended is because D1 have found me other work. Oh –– and for the next two days I'll be paid about 20c more an hour than I was at this data entry job, and then that'll go up by another 50c an hour or so (once it hits December). Such is the mysterious ways of D1.
So, with all this good news about employment, I toddled off to Vegan Wares to attempt to buy myself some flat shoes. My brown pair nearly made me miss my tram as they are so enormous it's like trying to run in thongs*, and my red pair rub badly, and also are shite for work as both buckles have broken off. However, there was NO LOVE at Vegan Wares as I have fat (well, wide) AND small feet; also I didn't want black. I couldn't get the style I wanted – I wanted one of the lace-up styles (like this one), but that "last" is quite narrow. Due to absolutely none of the flat shoes being both in my size and not in black, I had to get them to make it to order, but on the plus side I will have GREEN SHOES in about two weeks' time.
Anyway, when I got home, I checked my email, and found a note from Dee that said that the company she works for is looking for another editor for some part-time sort-of-freelance work; so I responded immediately and said, YES, of course I was interested. I also had an email from the second temp company (D2), who have thus far been incommunicado (much to my disgust). The email went something like this.
Dear D––
Why don't you call? What did I do wrong? Shouldn't I have bought those flowers? Please call me back, and we'll have another date. PLEASE? I'll bring chocolates. I only want to be loved.
OMGLIKESOLOVE,
D2
XXXX
To which I responded,
WTF?? We haven't had a date yet. And I left you a message with your answering service, and you never bothered to call me back. I'll be free after next week, though.
Perplexedly,
Me
... only in more business-y language. Steph says that they did this to her, too. They sent her an email asking if she wanted out, WHILE SHE WAS WORKING A TWO-MONTH CONTRACT FOR THEM. No love for D2, the absolutely crazy people.
So, I hope these work out. It looks like an interesting December.
(P.S. We both had medical problems today. My ankle, where the calf muscle joins the bone, caused me enormous pain for the kilometres I walked, and Steph had decaying parts of bone drilled out of her head by our dentist, Captain No-Apology.)
*"Flip-flops", not, as Stephanie points out "the butt ones".
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no subject
Date: 2006-11-30 08:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-03 08:16 am (UTC)