I filled out an online profile for the Ontario government while looking for a job to get me out of the house (or out of my head if the job is work from home).
I have experience in a variety of fields (flight attendant/office/marketing/support/training/technical writing/editing) but not recently – I’ve been home for 15 years tending to children. While at home, I did some editing and proofreading on the side, worked a few contract jobs, but haven’t been employed full-time while the aviation partner was doing his thing, coming and going without rhyme or reason.
Then the kids started competitive sports…
So I started a dog walking business. That was just on the upswing when COVID happened. (Everyone around here is working from home and doesn’t need a dog walker anymore…) 😞
Anyway, the time has come for me to get on with it. I have a project on the go that I’m not ready to unveil just yet, but in the meantime I’m keeping an eye on the job market too.
I figured, why not look into the government job banks?
Well that was my first mistake. 🙄
Either they don’t read the profiles that job seekers set up, or they have an algorithm that sucks. Because…I was sent the following as possibilities that appear to match my level of experience (not):
- Schoolbus driver (?)
- Office manager in North Toronto (at least an hour and a half’s drive one way…) 😕
- Data entry in an office in Ottawa (4 hours drive away from Toronto, one way) 😐
- Office something or other in Nunavut (a territory in Canada’s Arctic) 😳
- Registered nurse (um…wtf?)
Sure I can manage an office, but do they not pay attention to location?
I’d rather have a root canal than drive a bus.
And I may have first aid training and kids needing bandaids and kisses, but beyond that? I most certainly am not a nurse, registered or otherwise.
I give up. Governments are ridiculous (but then we already knew that, didn’t we.).
* * *
Yesterday afternoon, my daughter and I returned home from staying with my mom for five days. Before I left her place, I had gone to the grocery store to pick up some food. In the parking lot of the Metro, there was a wasp following me around. Because my car’s a/c isn’t working, I had the windows down, which somehow trapped the stupid wasp in the car as I drove the 3 minutes back to mom’s.
When I pulled into the driveway at mom’s the wasp was on my arm. I shooed it away and it stung me.
Somehow it stayed alive and hovered around the groceries in the trunk so I got fed up and took one of my daughter’s colouring books she had lying on the backseat and chased the stupid insect like a crazy chick until I smushed it against the window.
It was only half dead.
I picked it up with some tissue, wrapped it, and flushed it down the toilet.
Immediately afterwards, I worried about its suffering, and whether or not I would now have nightmares and be haunted for having killed an innocent creature from the animal kingdom.
(Yes, I’m losing it. So shoot me.) 🙃
This is what my arm looks like 24 hours later:
The drive home was uneventful.
As soon as we got home, I got a text from mom:
“Your child left her sandals behind.” 😶
So mom is visiting us today to drop off the child’s footware.
* * *
I spent the remaining part of the afternoon shopping with children (shoes, pants, gym ware, undies, socks, toilet paper), did two loads of laundry (all the new clothes the kids bought – will they ever stop growing?) and tidying hall closets on the main floor before having a breakdown. 😭
But the breakdown was short lived – I kicked into gear and now have several large bags of items to donate, and two large ones full of garbage.
Purging is a partial cure for what ails me.
The countdown to my next escape has already begun.
But first, it’s the weekend. I hope everyone has a great one…mine is bound to be full of all sorts of blog-worthy stories, including but not limited to a visit to a beach (while wearing my bikini, natch), and a puppy update (help me).
Happy Friday! See you in the comments.