A Journal of the Plague Year 2.0 Day 14

18th November 2020

I have an excuse today not contributing to society. Have been werking. WERKK.

Bedclothes all day, woke at 7am, checked the usual shit on the Internatz before the stuff in the back of your mind starts standing by the bed and breathing on your shoulder. Rent is due too.

First the multiple texts from multiple filming agencies to sort through, including one pleading for someone, anyone to be available for December (literally the fifth text and the fifth noISAIDNO). Then checking the emails flurrying into increasing drifts. FFS who needs three accounts these days??

And knowing I have to do a big rewrite on The Book, as well as apply for that job D sent me two days ago, but have been too scared to click on.

So after the emails got started on The Book, just to rid my demons. Then after two chapters fell asleep for half an hour into a deep, stilldrop place. A dark, dark pond by a big rounded rock. One weeping willow.

Had a Polish packet noodle, and some pretty delectable, super-cheap clams that A rustled up (£1.50 a pop from Lidl), the best I’ve ever had. Steamed in white wine sauce that came with the packet, and very soft. Reminded me of Belgo, and wondering if they’re still about -doubt it. But I can’t be wondering, wandering, enshadowed by priorities. Fucker still here.

So finally, finally the job. Clicked on it and it had been retracted. FFS.

So got onto the website, and started looking, took a while. To cut a long story short it’s now 6hrs later, I’ve finished the application for a different role and missed dinner. It’s 1.30am. What kind of job application takes 6 hrs these days??

Welcome to modern life, and all its bureaucratic wrangles, its hidey-holes and knots. It’s no longer queues at different govt departments these days, with papers to stamp and signatures to countersign. Now it’s an endless march of circles to click for some algorithmic cherry-picker, before check after check of online security and almost poetically stern, semi-autistic writing to tap out. There’s a set language that dries the tongue and mind, into nausea:

Achieved. Attained. Trained. Translated. Created. Communicated. Composed. Comprised. Qualified. Supplied. Scored. Staffed. Enhanced. Introduced. Initiated. Incorporated. Involved. Invested. Liaised. Led. Demonstrated. Projected. Promoted. Registered. Resulted. Directed. Disseminated. Maintained. Managed.

Responsibilities. Duties. Detail. Performance. Skillset. Agile. Analysis. Keyholder. Blue Sky. Waterfall. Knowledge. Pool. Precision. Deadline. Risk. Report. Upkeep. Brand. Band. Vendor. Customer. Client. Leader. Office. Official. Regional. Industry. Standards. Stakeholders. Issues. Initial. Intake. Interest. Investment.

LinkedIn has recently been making history with possibly the world’s most annoying campaign since Grammarly, popping up like a gurning rash all over Youtube whenever you want to do anything ever.

Someone please, please -for the sake of her family, friends and other animals, get her A Fucking Life. That cold glow throughout is very, very apt for what they’re selling. The Billy No Mates on her sofa, talking to herself. It’s not lockdown, it’s probably her birthday.

Who the flip genuinely uses LinkedbloodyIn as a social media platform? You do not want to go there, traipsing through industry reports and self promotion, looking for interaction and pals but finding only the dark succubus to any meaning in life.

Filling in the pencil; it’s enough to never want the job. As if those who came up with the form really are the robots they present on paper: grey-suited, white-collared, biro-packing, spot-less, emotion-less, sandwich-eating. Plastic-coated.

^amazing show btw

They better bleeding hire me, put my soul into that. Online tests, mission statements to write, 12 guidelines and info packs to read, and 6 forms to craft and perfect and stretch the bullshit over, though really it’s all true, just how you word it has to sound SO professional. One can’t really put down, yeah, I did all this but I can’t really be arsed to list it, would you fancy a drawing of a pigeon instead? Or a lifetime pass to my OnlyFans?

Yes, I taught deGrasse Tyson everything he knows. Yes I invented the world wide web. Yes I loaned Bill Gates that tenner back then. Yes I own a panda. Yes I can drive. I’d rather work for free for a few days or get sample exercises to do and be judged on that. Than ever have to fill out another form bigging oneself up. It’s painful, it eats the soul like Saturn devouring his son.

Applying for a job is pure existential fuckery to me, to I.

Am going to take the next day off.

I kinda need a black forest gateau right now.



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