Joyce. 23. Married to Rob. Studying Social Legal Work. Likes reading (science fiction), chick series (Gilmore Girls, Charmed) and surfing the web. Read more »

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Gucci little piggy

I finally, actually applied for a job about a week and a half ago. Good jobs, or jobs that I’d enjoy doing (which aren’t many), are scarce around this area. The job that I applied for, that of a mailroom clerk, isn’t exactly my dream job, but at least it shouldn’t bore me to death as it also includes helping people move from one office to another, in addition to the mail handling, scanning and sorting.

It’s at an insurance company where we happen to have a couple of insurances, but it’s through an employment agency, so we probably won’t get any discounts. It’s only until September, which is a good thing because that will give me plenty of time to look for something else.

The lady from the employment agency called me last Friday to tell me that I was selected and that she would be sending her selection to the company that same day. I should hear from her again sometime this week. Fingers crossed.

Meanwhile Rob had two new employers to choose from, but he declined both. He’d been looking for a new job for a while, because the athmosphere where he works now is pretty horrible and he doesn’t want to work in shifts anymore. He applied at this one company, and then his best friend told him that his boss was looking for someone as well. Both companies wanted him, but he decided that he didn’t want to risk it, because he would earn less without the shifts and the insecurity regarding my working life (or lack thereof) is a big factor in pretty much every decision we ever make.

We’re trying really hard to get everything on track and once I’ve got a job that I like and want to keep for a while, he can look for another job again. Fortunately one of the two companies told him that he’ll still be welcome anytime.

I’m actually really excited about getting a job now, more than ever before, because when I do, we’ll have so much money to spare every month that we’ll probably get hooked on drugs and wear Gucci to the supermarket without actually buying anything because our butler will do our shopping for us. Who said money can’t buy happiness.

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