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Dreadful Nonsense

"I've read your blog. it's really funny. you should write a column." - Jon Ronson

First day at Ridiculous New Job. Let me tell you a little something about my RNJ, without giving away too many details or tipping off the firm that they've hired a nut case. Let me also remember the constant lesson to be learned from Dooce and try not to get fired almost as soon as I've been hired.

I'm working this week in the litigation department, because they're apparently swamped off their feet with work and need an extra set of typing digits (that's not what the call the secretaries, by the way. Although I think I'd quite like it if they did). Next week, though, I'll be starting my RNJ for real. And even though I've not been told much about it, let me sum it up for you as I see it.

My working hours are 4pm to 8pm. The nightshift, secretarially speaking. I've been looking for part time work the entire time I've been job hunting, and have been constantly told that it's almost impossible to find. I have to work part time because, although I'm fitter and healthier (although no more productive) than ever before, I still can't do the sitting down thing for longer than a 4 hour period, thus making almost every 9-5 style job out of the question. This is why, when I was interviewed for this job, I was sorely disappointed by the glazing over of eyes that followed my declaration of slight disability. But the thing that worked to my advantage, and the main appeal of the job, is the crazy crazy working hours. Who wants to start work at 4pm?! Me! I do! I can continue staying up until all hours of the morning doing absolutely nothing and still arrive red eyed and hunchbacked in to work and not have to talk to anyone for more than an hour because everyone else leaves at 5pm.

I've never really put any real thought in to this kind of thing, but if I had to describe my ideal rubbish menial job, this would be it. Left to work at my own pace, without any supervision, without a boss to call my own, not having to make small talk about boyfriends/husbands, babies or soap operas (the only things secretaries talk about, and I'm not even being snarky here), and still able to get tons and tons of sleep. Bring. It. On.


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