Jobs

' Jobbe of worke' circa 1550.

Jobs have always been an integral part of life whether you get paid in money or kind. Most adults and some kids have jobs. We can't send kids up chimneys anymore because apparently it's illegal but we are still allowed to make them carry a bag, often heavier than themselves, full of newspapers to houses where the internet hasn't been invented yet and old men answer the door wearing a dressing gown. The kids are then paid 2 pence an hour for the privilege. Go figure. I had a paper round once for about 3 weeks. I hated it. It was during that 3 week period  i discovered, at age 14, that adults can be absolute bell ends about stupid shit like 'where's my Sunday supplement?' 'why's my newspaper wet?' 'who's done my crossword?' Twats. It was mutually agreed with myself and the newsagent owner that i should probably leave.
My eldest daughter has a job. she's a dog walker. She earns her own money. My youngest does jobs around the house to earn hers. Either way both girls have to earn it. I don't get money given to me and neither do they. You may think this is harsh but it's a life lesson taught to me by my dad who, according to him, was down the pit at 5 years old and joined the circus to be a human cannon ball when he was 8. I suspect he may be telling a little white lie.
I've  had a variety of jobs since leaving school because like most folk i didn't know what i wanted to do or be. My eldest wants to be a hairdresser and that hasn't wavered since she was a toddler. Girlchild number two however likes to think outside the box and wanted to be a water feature for a number of years. You may think that's slightly weird but the most interesting people i know are slightly weird. She is now a published poet and motorbike road racing photographer at age 13. See-interesting.
When, as young adults, we enter the job market we have to face the dreaded interview. This process doesn't get any easier no matter how old you get. Interviews are nerve racking because you have to bring the best version of yourself to an unfamiliar place and tell complete strangers how awesome you are without sounding like a self serving cock womble. It's a fine line. You have your c.v scrutinised like your about to enter it into the T.T and you sit there sweating wondering if the embellishments you've added will be noticed. Fibs like your actual exam results might not be as good as you've made them out to be or not to be (a little joke there for anyone who scored above a 'd' in English literature)  Hobbies and interests is always a good read. Who knew that skinny little mousey Carol on reception was once a Dutch wrestling champion or big Keith in the warehouse enjoys embroidery or that ugly Mike the delivery driver likes nothing better than to slip on a tight sequinned dress and perform as his alter ego-Michaela-at a drag club and belt out Shirley Bassey's greatest hits. C.v's are very rarely checked for authenticity apart from the references so next time you type yours my advice is go to town on it. Be all you want to be and stand out. Ultimately this will get you an interview and possibly the job.
In my job i occasionally get to sit at the other side of the desk and do panel interviews with my boss. We are good cop/bad cop. I am always bad cop. I like genuine folk and can spot bullshit a mile off. The blokes seem to be the worst offenders at spouting absolute bollocks although we did once interview a 30 stone woman for the position of set runner who claimed to be a trapeze artist. Often a male interviewee will attempt to flirt with me because they think if they flatter me i'll give them the job. Once they start with flirty banter or 'flanter' they may as well leave. Flanter at your peril. Interviews are a boring necessity to find the best candidate for the job not the best candidate for a blow job.
The workplace can be a minefield. Who is a friend? who will stitch you up like a kipper? who is the office perv? who is the office bike? who is the office dickhead? If you don't think your workplace has a dickhead, chances are, it's you.
If your'e lucky enough to have a job and can just about keep your head above water then your'e officially a grown up. If you have a job you hate you probably wish you were still a kid. If your'e in the very small minority and have a job you love your'e a fucking show off. I'm one of those show offs. It's not the best paid job in the world but i get to do something i love-most of the time. Standing around in the rain or cold for hours on end waiting for the lighting to be just right or an actor to remember their dialogue is not my favourite thing and those who work with me under these conditions will freely testify that i am prone to whingeing like someone who has just lost a whingeing competition. The down sides of working mostly from home are i can't ring in sick and i don't get invited to office parties.
Office parties are the sort of events that come under the 'what happens at the party stays at the party' rule. Most people who attend these functions see it as an opportunity to let their hair down and show their work colleagues what they're really like. Some people go that step further and will spend most of the evening getting horribly drunk, call their boss a c**t then attempt to finger Alison from accounts underneath the buffet table-or worse case scenario...Michaela. Happy days.
Worse than the office party by a mile are those awful team building days where some fucktard from H.R will arrange for everyone to go paintballing or bowling or an escape room. It's enforced fun and now your'e having to spend a day off work with the shithouses you spend your working life trying to avoid. Especially Dave whose B.O is so bad you can taste it and cross eyed Kelly who has one eye going to the shops and one coming back with the change, but worst of all is your boss who has the worst halitosis known to mankind. He has the sort of breath that can actually repel mints and could easily kill a small child or a sick pensioner.
Work is a necessity for most people in order to live so either leave the job you hate or do something different. Only you are in charge of the path you take. Embellish your c.v and leave the twatty mundane jobs to the twatty and mundane.