As much as I’d like to continue reporting on the social abyss that is Doofus (dressing ever more like Mrs Bates by the day), my first hand experience of the woman will soon be ending. Redundancy is stalking the corridors in the NHS site I work at like Death on a Baghdad roadside. I can see a leaving card and a collection winging my way in weeks rather than months.

This means I’ll have to get on my bike soon and start looking for work.

Fuck.

Due to having spent most of my 20s taxiing along the employment runway and failing to take off, job hunting is one of the things I find most depressing in life. Whenever I look, all I see are jobs I could do given the chance, but can’t quite match the person spec in the listed recruitment conditions. It’s like going up to a succession of girls at club and each one of them rejecting you because of your “lack of experience”. But then how else are you expected to gain the experience in the first place without a few preliminary bra-fumbling sessions?

On Tuesday I spent an hour looking online for jobs, and only two caught my eye. One of those was for the post of Roman Catholic chaplain, although I think my planned introductory sermon that “God is dead!” would mean I’d be filling the post only on a temporary basis. The other position is as a research assistant at a mental health charity aptly named Revolving Doors, since the position is only a six-month contract.

In many ways, apart from the short lunch break and the social retard I sit next to, my current post would be fine until I reached the promised land of assistant psychologist / primary care mental health worker. Granted I did come close to threatening to chop Doofus’ hands off is she continued to keep moving my stapler from its rightful place on my desk and into the wrongful place of her drawer (the rampant kleptomaniac dullard bitch), but as in-betweener jobs go this place ain’t bad. If I’m honest, at times the ad for my job could run as follows:

Vacancy for a person to not do a great deal over four days. Phone might ring once a day, twice if things get particularly busy. Must be able to tolerate junior doctors’ lack of social skills and delusions of grandeur. Reasonable punctuality is preferred, although coming in late most mornings and leaving early will pass uncommented. Applicants who keep a personal blog are actively encouraged to apply. PS - You will be sat next to a complete moron.