(Assume) the position has been filled

I’m by no means the first to observe that job-seeking is a full time job.

And if the Torybullies continue to get their way – it won’t even have the benefit of being something you can do from home.

 

I’m lucky in my repeated returns to unemployment, for one, I chose it. In a naïve flush of ‘it’ll all be alright really’ I gleefully guffawed at Withnail until I was laughing on the other side of my face. Oh the folly of youth. More meaningfully, I have the support of my family who have put me up in between acting jobs and continue to put up with me while I decide to entirely overhaul my life. Again. But what of the queues at jobcentres? Dutifully showing up to show willing, only to be met by paper-pushers doing everything they can to stop you signing on. Questions like ‘why can’t you borrow money from your parents?’ ‘if you live with your partner, why can’t you live off him?’ (This actually happened to someone I know, it took her a full afternoon to travel all the way back to the supposed 21^st century). ‘Here, have a zero-hours contract’. Job’s a good’un. ‘Oh look, unemployment figures are down’. Jesus wept. Nothing to do with Torybullies needing to massage unemployment figures before the big bad Bank of England will budge on interest rates. Blame (Mr) Canada ey Georgie Porky Pies?

 

And breathe. Sorry, but today has been a particularly long day of thankless form filling, cover letters and ooh lovely, another form. Not helped by the recruitment automaton who saw fit to reject one of my applications no less than ten minutes after I had submitted it.

> Dear

> Thank you for your application for the position of Copywriter (ref: xxxxxxxx) advertised on http://www.xxxxxxxx. Unfortunately in this instance your application has not been successful. Please keep visiting http://www.xxxxxx where new jobs are posted every day, and good luck with future applications.

>

> Yours sincerely

> 

Unfortunately in this instance? Instance being the operative word, hinny. Perhaps it was because I had put ‘why is a raven like a writing desk?’ in the ‘any other questions’ section. But it was for a copywriting job, and we’ll never know whether the person who wrote that job specification would have cracked a curiously feline smile, because computer said no.

Dear Roborecruitment*

Many thanks for your email. I would appreciate any feedback you may have on my application in this instance.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Best wishes,

Kathryn

*real names have been replaced to protect robot identities.

Nothing yet, I’m sure she’s just drafting her measured and bespoke response…

 

So, thank Hera for the hero of Wednesday:
 

Hi Kathryn,

Thanks for getting in touch but I'm afraid that we've just filled the vacancy we had for "hell raiser" (although she's on probation at the minute and, between you and me, is looking a bit ropy in the role. Not ever bringing any milk into the office does not constitute hell raising in my eyes - it's just annoying).

I did enjoy reading your blog over my cup of tea and sandwich, though. That job interview that kicks it all off sounds a bit mad.

Really sorry that I can't be more help on the jobs front at XXX; it's a struggle as it is to keep our few staff here in pop and crisps.

Good luck with it all (hope that doesn't sound too glib).

HERO OF WEDNESDAY.

Huzzah! There is hope for me and mankind and also just me on my own, yet. Get behind me Officeangels, you harbingers of doom, in the name of all things holy I defy your endless opportunities to sell my soul and join exciting global yawnfest. (It wasn’t Officeangels but their name is more useful for the harbinger of doom analogy – not that the automaton at ‘Recruitment R Us’ would appreciate that).

Ah well, whilst the muse has me, I’ve written this sonnet for the RSC casting department. What do you think?

This actor’s eyes are nowt like Stevenson’s-

Callow was more well-read than she well-read

If Judy be thy mark her quest is done

If Atwell’s diary’s clear, my suit is dead.

You have seen English roses, pale and white

So will not rush to pander at my cheek,

But in my verse there may be some delight?

If nothing else it proves I am not meek.

You have not heard me speak, and I won’t lie

And say my dulcet tones bring all folk round

Of course, you’ve seen famed idols launched on high-

I grant, thus far, I tread boards on the ground.

And yet, by Rylance, give me chance to share

That stage some have left, pursued by a bear.

Too much?