It’s a strange thing. I’m working - well sort of - on a computer that is old and slow, but the desk arrangement means that there is a nice big window for me to look out of while I wait for the compy to catch up. And I have only just realised that I have never worked at a computer with a window so nice and close. What is out my window? Well a road, a foot path, and a recycle center called “Reverse Garbage” … oooh, two ladies just parked in the wheelchair spot, but strangely neither of them are in a wheelchair, perhaps they left it a home today? Anyway. So why am I at work you ask? Well, because the Australian Government decided it would be fun. They gave me a chioce. Option 1 - go work for come non-profit organisation 2 days a week and get nothing for it we weren’t already giving you anyway. Option 2 - we cut off you dole money and you can stave to death. Saddly I’m too fond of living to make a political stand on this one. So here I am, working for no money, in a job I’d not chose, doing things that are so piss easy for me I’m having trouble remembering the last time I had to do something this basic (“maybe you could create a database to help us track our calls” they said. “Sure,” I repiled, “What colour would you like it?”). What exactly do you call a job you don’t get paid for and didn’t want to do? The two guys here are nice at least, good to see that good people are still in this city, and even part of the system.
Why did you come here looking for insight?