And getting paid for it.
Sounds like a dream job. It’s not.
Let’s see now…
Halfords – Standing round doing nothing in a shop patronised by oily boy racers and Cortina owners.
Church club – Standing round serving drinks to drunken catholics who should go home well before 3am because I have work in the morning.
Solicitors – Sitting round doing nothing in a decaying suburban office frequented by ne’er do-wells and low lifes on the scrounge.
Accountants – Sitting round doing a little bit and nipping out to get a Picnic bar for the shifty looking boss every day at 11am
Off Licence – putting up with gobby kids trying to buy alcohol “fer me maa cos she can’t gerrout de house like mate” for £3 an hour in a scary council estate near celticblissy‘s flat.
Civil service – Sitting round doing very little, ensuring others look busy when in fact they have little to do. For miserable overpaid civil servants. Who also would rather be doing something else.
Call centre – Sitting round getting shouted at because the company does nothing. At the Albert Dock. Miles away from affordable shops so no chance of getting out for lunch.
billzy‘s job – Sitting round getting shouted at because nobody is capable of doing things for themselves.
Sixth form college – Sitting round, organising things alphabetically for Aspie boss and getting shouted at for using the wrong type of paper clip in an isolated office constantly under observation and monitoring. Miles from shops meaning lunch at the desk.
Current job – Standing round, sitting round, doing nothing much, watching others stand and sit and not do much, wiping people’s arses, feeling isolated because soon as people find out about the temporary aspect of the job they clam up, while being monitored and observed in creepy semi derelict college in the heart of the West Midlands. With pigeons. Miles away from any form of shop or amenity.