So long, farewell...

I'm no longer unemployed. I got two jobs, in fact. One as a research assistant (read: editor/coffee monkey/proofreader/marker of papers), the other as a holiday season retail slave at the mall (read: seller of socks and slippers). Therefore, destitute is no longer the new black; now overworked and underpaid is the new black.

To see evidence of this, head on over to My Shitty Job.

When it rains it fucking pours

1. I got offered a job as a research assistant/editor on campus today.
Pro: excellent experience; contract lasts until the end of the school year
Con: I would likely only be paid for five hours a week, but often expected to commit much more time than that; pay most likely sucks

2. I have a job interview at Bentley on Friday at noon.
Pro: all the hours I can handle at least until after Christmas; a good excuse to avoid visiting my family for more than two days over the holidays
Con: working at the mall; pay definitely sucks

There you have it.

Pretty sure I'm going to take the research assistant job, if for no other reason than that it shouldn't even have been offered to me given my abysmal GPA. Also it's good to have experience doing something that isn't customer-service related and I'd get to have an office to work in. And you can't argue with an office. Even if it doesn't have any windows.

Back in Black

I've been really slack with this thing. Meh.

My resume-distributing trip to the mall last week was somewhat productive. Most places I went to were happy to accept my resume but also made it clear that they weren't hiring until at least November and wanted someone with more retail experience than I. A few places were downright hostile and some were apologetic, in a "we just laid off half our staff last week" sorta way. The only store that seemed really interested was Bently, a place that usually sells suitcases and mittens. It seems that for the Holiday Season they're setting up a satellite kiosk somewhere in the mall that sells nothing but slippers and they'll be needing staff for that. Good enough. Slippers are a great cop out gift. Kinda like mittens.

In other news, a friend of my brother may be able to get me a job at the CIBC call centre. Which would be okay, at least it pays more than $6.20/hr and would probably let me have a regular schedule. However, if my own experience is any indication, nobody's feeling cheerful when they come to the point when they actually have to call the bank. If it's anything like my last call centre job, it will make me want to stab myself in the head repeatedly. The verbal abuse and sexual harassment kind of gets to you after a while, you know? It's been four years since I worked at Cendant, and I still literally get nauseous whenever I have to take that bus route.

In still other news, one of my professors works with the Music on the Hill program and she's waiting to hear about a grant she's applied for to hire a student part time. I'm not totally clear on what the job actually is, and the funding isn't in place yet, but I think it's clerical/administrative stuff. More than likely better than minimum wage, and I probably wouldn't have to deal with the public very much. So basically at this point, it's my dream job.

I Want to Live At the Mall

Tomorrow morning I'm doing the walk of shame. That's right, the following Regent Mall stores can expect to receive resumes from me:

American Eagle
Bentley
Black's Photography
Bluenotes
Body Shop, The
CD Plus
Clair de Lune
Claire's Accessories
Fruits & Passion
Great Canadian News Company, The

I was thinking about hitting the movie theatre as well, but I fear that they would give me the humiliating job of standing under the screen during the coming attractions with a snack cart. Are people so fucking lazy they can't even walk to the lobby to pay $12 for a small popcorn and drink?

In conclusion, up with capitalism!

In the [Old] Navy

I went to my first ever Old Navy store yesterday, and what a terrifying experience. It looked like your average Wal-Mart store ten minutes before closing on December 24th... except with more women than men. I'm fairly certain it would have degenerated into a Lord of the Flies-like situation very quickly were it not for the headset-wearing staff, who looked to be literally directing traffic when indicating where the lines for the checkouts and fitting rooms started.

But none of this is really important; what is important is that I was vainly searching for a pair of jeans. It doesn't sound like a difficult task, but when your size happens to be the North American average (yeah, I've gotten fat... now fuck off), looking for pants in a crowded store becomes absolutely Darwinian. I couldn't find any, and neither could the very tall woman standing next to me looking for the same size... I eventually spotted the correct size, but in the "tall" length. So I handed them to the woman, who said "Wow, you're like a professional shopper!" I then enlisted the help of one of the headset-wearers who also had limited success. She eventually handed me a pair in the right size and length, but the wrong style. "Aren't these flared instead of boot cut?" I asked her. She looked at them and said, "Hey, you're right. You know these better than I do!"

So anyway, I didn't get any jeans, but I've decided that I was born to sell them. Since there's no Old Navy here, I'm gonna apply for a job at American Eagle this week. I like most of their clothes and they don't play techno music in their stores, which is about as good as its going to get at this point I think.

In other news, no word from Planned Parenthood. This worries me because at any of the organizations I've ever volunteered for in the past, whenever anyone expressed interest in helping out we were on them like sharks who smelled blood in the water. How bad is it when I can't even give my labour away for free?