...and the winner is:  "Female Exiting Prostitution Worker".  I don't even know where to begin, folks.  I do know I wouldn't want that job title on my business card.  In other job-hunt related news, my father-in-law saw fit today to lecture me about my job-hunting skills.  Have I thought about looking at working for government departments?  No, that major career-path escaped me, despite the fact

I've been trying to make a trophy-style cup for these, but I am old, and my talents with arty software are not what they once were. I'll continue to attempt it, in between attending the Job Centre PLUS to be asked what 'advocacy' is and how to spell it, and asserting that it's just possible that the government's job-finding resources are less effective for those of us who can't fit their

I am job-hunting. This is, as we all know, an activity which is slow and grinding, to the point of physical pain. It's been difficult so far, not only because until now I've been without an internet connection at home, but also because one application just took me the better part of two days to complete and sucked my soul completely dry.I wonder if you can really refer to a period of time as '

It has been difficult locating my Christmas spirit this year. I've been homesick, and blazing hot sunshine and a thirteen hour time difference from old friends and ever-expanding family puts a dampener on any chance to remedy the issue. On the way home last night I was nearly reduced to tears when I saw a tiny penguin chick that was clearly ill, floating with the current in the harbour.I

Yesterday I packed up my belongings and shipped them to the other side of the office. I'm far away from the Thug, and while I felt a twinge of guilt at taking Ernie (my plant), my world map and my London Underground map with me, I didn't look back.My new desk is great! It features a sea view, plus pin-board and white-board. Once I'd been on the scrounge and secured myself a coat-rack,

Thus far in his life, Cowboy had succumbed to the subtle but insidious my-house-is-bigger-than-your-house peer-pressure nonsense that appears to be the special preserve of uptight middle English old-fart aspirants. Unfortunately for him, while his friends all got together with people with professional-sounding but incomprehensible job titles, he managed to hook up with some little hippie chick

click on the image to enlarge.

Let's call him The Thug.Being of Gen X, I'm used to working in an open-plan environment. Although the open-plan office has its disadvantages, it becomes easier to ignore background chatter because there's a constant hubbub amidst which conversational details are lost and thus easier to tune out. I have also found that if you don't respond to verbosity, colleagues assume you haven't heard them

The abridged version: One of the administration staff appears to be permanently attached to her ipod, to the extent that it accompanies her to the kitchen while she makes cups of tea, and sits on the counter while she swivels about it, completing the task. It looks like a poltergeist playing swingball, writ large. Perhaps it isn't really an ipod, but a device which beams petty bureaucracies

Everyone here has mailboxes rather than a slot in their front door for too-large letters to be rammed through in an abusive manner by the latest Royal Mail contractor. There are advantages and disadvantages to the mailbox approach.On the plus side, it's easier to ignore piles of junkmail if they're at the bottom of a box outside, than it is if you have to force the door open against the friction

The other day, on a whim, I made a purchase from the Tempt-Me stand at the checkout in the supermarket. I bought a Mars bar. I cannot remember the last time I ate a chocolate bar (I eat plenty of other crap, but an individual full-size chocolate bar? It's probably been a year at least). When I got home, I felt stupid, for I had been sucked in by that marketing strategy which seeks to cajole

It's time for Round 2 of Ritual Humiliation! I went to another job interview. This job scores 7/10 on the scale of perfect ways to earn money, so I was reasonably nervous a whole five days before I ever set foot inside the board room and placed myself at the mercy of a man in a blue and white flannel paisley shirt, flanked by two very intellectually astute women. By the time I was plumbing the

Here is why, despite the mountain views, I am often hit with the desperate desire to go home.I applied for a dream job shortly before my visit to the UK. If I could have written my own job summary according to exactly what I'd like to earn money doing, with a few very minor tweaks, this job would have been it, reduced to a four-word job-title. I was approached by one of the agencies I had

Advice to Readers: To enhance your enjoyment of today's post, it is suggested that you imagine the Countdown Condundrum tickety-tock bee-doop bee-doop, diddly-dum boo! playing in your head. Try to visualise Carol Vorderman chewing on a pencil, eyebrows knitted, while Richard Whiteley (RIP) flaps another hideous tie. This is rather embarrassing to admit. Even though I have been in NZ for six

I'm all alone at the office of my new job today. The rest of the team have gone on a strategic planning day to enable new levels of helplessness and bitterness to be felt by staff who realise that they exercise no control over the direction of their work and that they are merely marionettes, dangling at the bottom of strings tweaked by the great corporate puppeteer. I am not included, for my

Every so often I check my blogular inbox (and by every so often, I mean whenever I remember that it exists - which at the moment ranges from once a week, to every three days). The other day I was pleased to find that a (concerned?) reader had emailed a link to a rather amusing news report which I feel compelled to share, weeks late, with you dear readers.Ban on feeding cows dope

Yesterday, in the late afternoon, I attended another job interview. As I've mentioned before, it's not my favourite pastime. So why, why did I agree to work a whole angst-ridden nervous day before attending the interview and being ripped to shreds? Because I like to put unnecessary pressure on myself and come home emotionally drained. The interview itself was surprisingly acceptable, though I

Today I attended my second Kiwi job interview. I spent all weekend researching answers to pertinent questions that I might be asked about the subject matter of the job, such as "Can you tell me what percentage of New Zealand's greenhouse gasses are emitted by livestock?"*.Instead, I was asked whether I like to joke around at work. Answer yes, and you're marked out as a layabout hoon who thinks

The only 'admin' I'm able to do at the moment involves this blog, and so I have gone back and edited all the posts in my archives to give them labels, and placed them in the sidebar. Now, if you want to know what I'm like when I'm being a bitch, you can check out Rantus Maximus, or if you need to know about the latest hippy issue at the Fort, check out Hair Shirt. I've also added a few

Welcome, welcome, roll up! Enter into the spirit of trying to earn a living in a foreign land. Do not assume that because you earnt a hefty salary in London that you will be able to translate that to the appropriate standard of living in a country far, far away!Starting assumptions:1. Wages are LOW. Yes, yes, I know all about the cost of living and how low it is here, but it isn't THAT low.