Wednesday, January 21, 2009

wish i were a slave to the wage...

judging from how short my own attention span is, i'll just skip right to the important bits...

i'm a 23-year-old graduate of a small liberal arts womens' university in southwest virginia. i graduated with a film degree. they refuse to send me my diploma until i pay a hold on my account. i am morally opposed to this. it is a matter of principle.

i will be using this blog to express what it is like for me transitioning (however painfully slowly) from post-adolescent to post-post-adolescent/adulthood. meaning: the trials and tribulations, foibles and misadventures, and general impossible precipices one must encounter when seeking...employment. oh, i'll also mention every day events like things my parents do that freak me out, encounters with hair in the drain, and my general ineptitude in social settings.

i do not type using capital letters.

SO. let's get on with it.

****

i currently work a part-time, temporary position as a hostess during the lunchtime hours of a semi-swanky bluesy little restaurant downtown. we are required to wear all black, to which my brother replied upon my informing him, "of course. the color of ruthless authority." i write the special, soup, and entertainment of the day on three different chalkboards, answer the phone, make reservations, and of course, escort patrons to their seats upon their arrival. more on all this later, i guess.

tomorrow (actually in about 12 hours), i am headed to a...temp agency to see if i can find steady employment because my hours at the restaurant are getting to be less and less. i hate to say it, but i am very skilled at office work; during my time at college, i worked in the library on campus, and did a lot of stuff.

i promise i won't sound this stuffy in the future.

anyway, the woman on the phone at the agency told me to allow for up to 2 hours to be spent there doing tests, less depending on what kinds of tests. there is gonna be a typing test. which is fine, i am a great typist. i just have to remember to capitalize for that.

1 comment:

  1. ok. just so that we're clear on this...no matter what crazy game of ping pong i am playing in my head right now i am still going to marry your brother.

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