The Universe likes to laugh at me – I’m sure of it. This morning, I got a call through from an employment agency that I had registered with last week. They deal with the NHS, which is where I want to go after my degree, and I thought it would be a great idea to get my feet under the table, as it were. So, long story short, they offered me a job. It’s in the town centre, so easy to get to on public transport, and the pay is pretty good at just over six pounds per hour. One thing’s bothering me, though.
It’s at the sexual health clinic.
So ha! The Universe strikes again. I must have been a real shit in a previous life. I couldn’t turn the job down though, you understand. Job pay, with a good agency, and a chance to get involved in a company where I want to be for the rest of my life. So, I’m biting the bullet and going in tomorrow. It’s just a filing and data entry role, which I will no doubt find unmercifully dull, but I’m determined to do well – not just so I can walk away with a pocket full of green and a good reference with which I can get a job later on. But also because, if I can get through this without going completely insane, I’m probably coping a lot better than I thought I was.
You can’t ignore the Universe.
So while it may be boring, and it may be agonising having to rifle through record after record, with the distinct possibility that I might come across my own and have to garrotte myself with a mouse cable, I’m going to have to go. It’s a job and it’s some money, after all. And maybe it’ll result in a career later. Wish me luck. I shall be filling up with coffee and ginseng. Perkifying.
God, I hope I can cope.
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