Oh That Old Work Chestnut

Ah work, who needs it. But what about the future, I hear you say? Yes, well good point. The future? I guess I should be worried about the future? We spend so much time worrying about it, though. What about today? What about living in the moment? 

Is climate change and our federal government and other governments around the world scandalous neglect of the environment going to make the future a mute point? Is big business and the likes of Rupert Murdoch actively work against the environment scientists going to make the future less guaranteed? You know, you have got to wonder? All you have to do, like a good defense lawyer, is plant a seed of doubt in people’s minds… which they seem to have succeeded in doing, for ‘their’ own profits. I guess it is an easy one, as people don't want to believe it.

Some scientists say we have twenty good years left, so I’m never going to get to retirement, if they are true. Okay, I’ll be nudging it, true. But what is the point of planning so meticulously for Armageddon?

But back to the future. Granted, I should get myself a job that I love, yes I should. How many people do you think are doing jobs that they love? I have no idea, really. But mostly I hear people say that they hate their jobs? Or they wish they didn’t have to work. Or they wish they did something else. They wished they did something that they loved.

I wish I was one of those people who had it all sorted, career plan, superannuation paid to the max, money in the bank… energy bills geared towards the maximum discount, I wish I was. I’ve always been someone who has wanted to be something else, do something else, but never quite managing it. My personal life has always been so happy and so contented that my work life has always taken a second place. Shrug. So now it would seem that I have got to a stage when my professional life is a drag. Pity really. I know I have turned into one of those whiny people who I feel sorry for. It is true. How did that happen? I mean, I know how it happened, it is just an eye opener, is that a sad truth, that it has. I hear myself some days, oh what a whinger.

They say that old age is no place for sissies. We spend our whole lives preparing for it, which just seems odd sometimes. How much of living do we have to allocate to dying, I sometimes wonder?

So, have another ciggie, another cream bun and the future will take care of itself.

So who wants to work? I do, actually, I don’t mind work, but a good job, with nice people. I’m just beginning to hate continually going in and cleaning up somebody else’s mess. I think it makes me live in a constant state of anxiety. It must be time for a change.

My old boss, Beck, has the perfect job for me, but she can’t get rid of Miss Useless who my boss inherited when she took her job. Assistant Financial blah blah. (I can’t put the words in print) Miss Useless gets everything wrong and is hopeless. And she doesn’t even seem to care, spending her time on Facebook and Gumtree and other such sites, unashamedly. She got pregnant last year and everything was looking good for me, but then annoyingly she had a miscarriage, so she didn’t leave. Damn!

It was three days a week, which was not quite enough for me, if I am going to do a [permanent role, but now my boss is only going to work four days so what would be my role has increased to four days per week, which would just suit me.

Grrrrr!

Why is the perfect job dangled so temptingly in front of me but yet remains just out of my grasp? It is annoying. I'm sure I have been a good person in this life.

I’ve got one day a week this week and for the next month. I think I am on the outer with my boss Jack. I’m not really sure why.


Anyway, I’m off out into the garden to clean up.