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scratching

It could be me, really. Copyright remains with Ingo Arndt.

I was at Spotlight the other day. It’s right by where I do my grocery shopping, so I thought I’d just bob in and have a look at some of their homewares (with birthday gifts in mind) and, although I’d quite decided that mine is an urban jungle and therefore a business suit with high heels and a few silly accoutrements would do the job for the jungle theme, I actually found myself irresistibly drawn to the remnants table and looking around on it for a piece of jungley fabric! And, wouldn’t you know it, I found some. At least, it might not be jungley, just “reminiscent of big cat and not all big cats are jungle cats but you’ll get the idea” fabric. I think it’s something like the markings on an ocelot, most of which are to be found in northern South America; that is, the Amazon. Surely that’s jungle enough for anyone.

In any case, although I reckoned I only needed a couple of metres, I bought what was left on the bolt because it seemed wasteful not to (it was a reduced-to-half-price remnant and the shop assistant threw in the balance for free)! I could probably make a little summer top out of the remaining almost a metre. It’s a stretch polyester, which is not such a brilliant idea for our summertime but it drapes beautifully and should make a reasonably flattering dress. If I make a top as well, it would still leave me the option of urban jungle because it would probably be all right with a business jacket and skirt. The trick now is to pick a pattern that won’t be time-consumingly difficult: either something I’ve made before or a very simple new pattern. I’m scratching my head about that at the moment.

Now that our own rowing state championships are pretty much over – thanks to the cancellation of the second day’s racing, YoungB still has to compete in a couple of events that, I gather, the officials are hoping to slot into a regatta in the near future – his training and all sorts of other things really start ramping up prior to the interstate regattas. Although I’m not directly involved in preparations for the interstate stuff, I’ll certainly have things to do that are beyond my ordinary daily domestica. Therefore, time for extracurricular activities – and, alas, at this time of year, sewing probably does fall into that category because it’s not portable enough to be carted off to rowing, unlike the knitted mitts which certainly are – is going to be limited. I’m scratching my head about that, too, because you might recall the party coincides with the interstate regatta.

Another bit of head-scratching relates to my lack of qualifications for employment. I’m supposed to apply for three jobs a week – and I negotiated that down from the original suggestion of five which was clearly silly – but, you know, it’s still a case of applying for what are obviously junior positions and putting my name down for information nights for jobs I’ve no hope of getting just so I can say I’ve done my bit. The lunacy of it all. It’s not as if you can really just trot out a pro forma letter for anything. You have to make at least an attempt to address the selection criteria. Nobody is going to employ me in a “starting” position and I feel stupid even sending off the application just to keep some bureaucrat happy. Attitude? Mine is not a good one at the moment, I admit.

YoungB is more sanguine about it, although he advised me against even bothering to apply for one job that he reckoned I’d find too physically taxing (he was probably right; one of his hefty mates holds such a position and finds it demanding). Both he and Dr B tell me to just keep sending off the applications. Don’t work too hard at them, don’t get too stressed about the whole procedure, don’t take it personally – I’ve had that advice from others; but sometimes it’s hard to take it any other way – and don’t let it get you down. Right. That’s all good advice but it’s such a waste of time and, you have to think, not just mine: someone at the other end has to make some sort of attempt to read the application and make a decision as to whether I’m remotely suitable.

I do transcription work from home. A couple of my erstwhile colleagues have agreed with me that we’re never going to earn a decent wage doing it, unless we’re prepared to work for a lot of hours and juggle multiple contracts. Some people do (for example, a couple of even more erstwhile colleagues – that is, those who left before jobs were targeted; what one incumbent described as escapees rather than redundants!). I think I have to balance health and family considerations against the possibility of what a negative impact it might have were I to stay up all night typing (even though I do frequently start work early so that I can make the most of the morning tranquility). I might once have reckoned that feasible but by my present age, and with my life experience, I know perfectly well that doing those sorts of things is a shortcut to disaster. So I’m just going to keep scratching out those applications and hoping for the best.

Whatever you’re scratching around at, I hope you’re finding your creative mojo. Of if you’re also on the job-hunting treadmill, just keep right on scratching away at that, too, and you might come up with the goods. But if you don’t, just remember to take your knitting to the dole office, will you? Perhaps it will keep you from scratching!

 
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Posted by on February 7, 2014 in Musing, Rowing, Sewing

 

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the unemployment-go-round and just in case

Some days I sit and trawl the job sites – between waiting for emails to tell me if I have any incoming assignments for the transcription I do from home; which pays little but sometimes takes an inordinate amount of time! – and wonder why I’m bothering. They might not say it in so many words because the legislation forbids it, but many are very obviously looking for some young, silly female, preferably blonde with big hooters, who’s too young and silly to complain about the potentially sexist attitudes already on display. Other days I stumble across things for which I’m well qualified and I send off another application (electronically, in the majority of cases). Most of them disappear into the aether and I have no way of knowing if they ever reach their target audience. Very rarely you get an automatic response, which is at least a bit heartening.

Today I happened upon another in the latter category (as well as a couple in the first) and went through the same routine. This one, as it turned out, sent back an automatic response. So I wondered if this time it might be sufficiently a possibility that I should really make myself a blouse for work? Just in case? You know, I did make the reSewlution at Karen’s behest that I was going to do just that. I later put my hand up to ask if I could change it to using that lovely rayon to make a decent blouse, because with no job to go to, what incentive was there to make anything to wear to it? But a decent blouse is always useful and I don’t have many.

Allowing for the very dim lighting, you'll see there's a distinct vertical (or horizontal) look about this, so I'll need to be careful with placement.

Allowing for the very dim lighting, you’ll see there’s a distinct vertical (or horizontal) look about this, so I’ll need to be careful with placement.

In between helping Dr B with some motorbike tinkering and attending to today’s laundry and doing all that boring domestica, I tracked down the fabric and the pattern I intend to use and put it somewhere near the top of my work pile. I’ve patched YoungB’s jeans and darned them (all by hand, if you don’t mind; the skinny legs meant I couldn’t get the hole under my presser foot, even with the tubular bed freed up) so that he has a spare pair to take with him when he’s interstate rowing next week, and I’ve even done a spot of repair work on the zipper tab of a motorcycle boot for him. Do you reckon it’s my turn now? Should I do myself a favour and make a new blouse? It would be useful and it would cheer me enormously to succeed at something!

 
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Posted by on November 27, 2013 in Motorcycling, Musing, Rowing, Sewing

 

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