Diary of a Redundasaurus

| Posted by Lou | The time is 4.40pm here in London UK |



It turns out I am actually very good at being unemployed. In fact, it turns out I'm a little bit too good at being unemployed.

For example, it is 4.41pm and I have not had a single moment of being bored today, yet this is all I have done:

  • slept in
  • checked email, twitter, facebook
  • checked job ads
  • sighed over lack of appealing jobs
  • gone to the supermarket
  • made lunch
  • sorted out some crap for an upcoming holiday
  • sent my bank another angry message
  • emailed a recruitment agent
  • blogged a pet peeve

Amazing how it can all be spread out to fill in a whole day.

But yes, underneath it all I am bored bored bored.



It turns out all those times I was moaning about my job and questioning whether I was doing the right kind of thing and dreaming about all the things I would do if I had the money and time, I hadn't considered the key facts:

  1. Everybody needs to earn money in order to live.
  2. Earning more than average is a great way to afford awesome holidays and save up for the future.
  3. There are very few (if any) fulfilling jobs out there for the taking.
  4. Going to work every weekday provides a lovely little structure to one's life so that they can better appreciate their spare time.
  5. Working somewhere social has excellent benefits in terms of drinking buddies.

Not to get me wrong - my old workplace was specifically very badly treating me and I had many legitimate reasons to be deeply dissatisfied. However, the job itself is something I would happily have back again right now if those problems were resolved.

Fancy that, huh? Years of thinking I'm a sell-out blah blah blah, and it turns out I really was doing the best thing I could be doing.

(In case you're wondering, my old boss has specifically told me he would talk to me about coming to work with him in his new workplace, but he shares an Assistant with his CEO and 2 others so there isn't a job to talk to me about.)

Perhaps this is benefitted by the cathartic moment I have had that goes along the lines of (to quote from an email I sent Bel after arriving back in London):
I WANT TO MOVE BACK TO NEW ZEALAND.



Okay so I feel like that every time I visit New Zealand. But this time it's different. Maybe? (I do have to consider that I have come back to job hunting, and there was that earthquake that emotionally fucked-up each and every New Zealander throughout the world.)

It is also benefited by 2.5 weeks of job-hunting that have made me realise how slim the pickings are out there at the moment. (Meanwhile several awesome jobs in film are available in Wellington right now that I'm pretty sure I'd have a decent chance of getting.)

So pretty much right now I'm hoping a job will come up that will combine the right industry with the right pay so that I can get through the next 18 months (I want to experience the Olympics (even though I think they'll cause a horrendous transport meltdown)) or 36 months (if I decide I do want that UK passport).

And realistically, "right industry" and "right pay" pretty much mean "working as an Executive Assistant". And I swear I'm not going to complain about it when it happens. (Maybe?)

2 thoughts on “Diary of a Redundasaurus”

  1. I'd like to point out that you're quoting the entirety of your email there! ;)

    You've hit the nail on the head about structure. Although it seems like lazing about is the biggest bonus of not having a job, it so quickly turns into the biggest bummer.

  2. Dear Redundasaurus,

    Movedcountriesasaurus feels your pain.

    Oh god, the pain.

    That said, have a film job, just doesn't pay enough to cover bills and let me write my own stuff or be independent from my in laws (actually this worries me more ... there's probably an agony email in the works somewhere).