ARGH!
I knew I should have studied before I went in for the transcribing test. If I finish with enough time to check my work, I always start second guessing myself and thinking everything looks wrong. I have just looked up some of the words I typed and realise that I had spelt them right originally, and then corrected it into something very wrong - and do you think I could remember how to spell illicit and renown? No. I had illicit right originally, but it looked wrong so I went with ellicit - I am such a doofus.
We were not allowed to use spell check.
And I ended up going with renouned instead of renown, even though I knew it was wrong - renown just wouldn't come for me at all. I don't think I've even read that word in a long time.
I tried not to mutter (cursing my ignorance) as I typed, but I believe I couldn't stop myself giving the occasional 'oh what the heck' shrug.
Renown is not a word I would have expected in a court session, so study would have been redundant in that case anyway.
As will no doubt be plain from my blog, punctuation, grammar and spelling are not my strong points. I've also read a few too many things written with the intention of emphasising pronunciation and very nearly accidentally typed 'carn't' instead of 'can't'.
Still ... I had a nice time, which is not something one can say about testing for jobs usually, and I have other prospects, but this would have been an interesting job. I can only hope that I get some of the audio-typing correct that the others did not.
Never mind. If I get the job I interviewed for yesterday I will be driving an estimator around in a hummer and following him about at job sites taking notes, which would be fun too.
And if I don't get either of them, the nice manager from my last place of employment who left a month or so before me, said he might have something coming up soon. It's nice to be wanted :)
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Monday, January 23, 2012
stopping by
Have been sleeping in till 8:30 or 9 ish of late, which leads to some confusion when my mobile phone rings because I initially fumble blearily to hit the snooze button on the alarm only to be faced with prospective employers wanting to make appointments.
Have been playing repetitive clicking computer games and knitting to pass the time, which I wish would pass faster between payment days, as all the money is spent within a couple of hours on bills and food and the rest is twiddling my fingers for a fortnight contemplating my boredom.
Only boring people are bored.
Fair enough - I have never claimed to be otherwise.
There are lots of things I could do, but ... phfft.
Probably I should try and stimpulate the little grey cells a little more. Perhaps I should try and re-write "The Slant" (a song by Glenn Richards) to be about a duck.
Or something.
oh well. Interview at midday today. Pre-testing for another tomorrow.
Sort of interested in the one tomorrow. Is typing up court transcripts from recordings. Potentially interesting and possibly even horrific on occasions. Make one grateful for what one has.
The cats are still delighted by my daily company, as I am with theirs. I am less delighted with daytime television and my cheap crappy dvd player which has decided to cease working. Which is a pity cause it is also all I have to play cds on and have just re-found the Decemberists Crane Wife album which I have been looking for off and on for the past six months. I knew it was here somewhere.
I swear ... next regular paid work I get, I am getting a skip and ruthlessly decluttering myself. I want open floor space and cupboards, damnit! and one of those kitty play towers covered in carpet, and some mirrors around the place to remind me what I look like so that I will exercise a bit. One tiny little medicine cabinet mirror that I can only see into if I stand on the stairs does not provide sufficient motivation.
And the books - I can feel another purge on the way.
Have been playing repetitive clicking computer games and knitting to pass the time, which I wish would pass faster between payment days, as all the money is spent within a couple of hours on bills and food and the rest is twiddling my fingers for a fortnight contemplating my boredom.
Only boring people are bored.
Fair enough - I have never claimed to be otherwise.
There are lots of things I could do, but ... phfft.
Probably I should try and stimpulate the little grey cells a little more. Perhaps I should try and re-write "The Slant" (a song by Glenn Richards) to be about a duck.
Or something.
oh well. Interview at midday today. Pre-testing for another tomorrow.
Sort of interested in the one tomorrow. Is typing up court transcripts from recordings. Potentially interesting and possibly even horrific on occasions. Make one grateful for what one has.
The cats are still delighted by my daily company, as I am with theirs. I am less delighted with daytime television and my cheap crappy dvd player which has decided to cease working. Which is a pity cause it is also all I have to play cds on and have just re-found the Decemberists Crane Wife album which I have been looking for off and on for the past six months. I knew it was here somewhere.
I swear ... next regular paid work I get, I am getting a skip and ruthlessly decluttering myself. I want open floor space and cupboards, damnit! and one of those kitty play towers covered in carpet, and some mirrors around the place to remind me what I look like so that I will exercise a bit. One tiny little medicine cabinet mirror that I can only see into if I stand on the stairs does not provide sufficient motivation.
And the books - I can feel another purge on the way.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
move along people - nothing to see here
oh ah ... I am begging my cats forgiveness for my slackness concerning their kitty litter whilst at same time cursing them ( or in this case her ) for leaping up onto my little notebookieishcomputerthingy when I was amidst online testing for a recruitment company, causing me to grab and chuck in a precipitice (sp?) manner, and thus her claw which had delicately and lightly landed and latched, snicked and lifted the letter "t" away, making my blogging life just that little bit more difficult, which indeed has nothing to do with my slack poopyscoping - i merely lack the will
my scooter blew a fuse at an inconvenient moment this week and I spent too much in that first initial first flush of money and now I am screwed, fuse or no - I really don't want to beg money from my mother, but may yet need to
my oldest and best beloved cat vomits if he is fed anything other than fancyfeast which is distributed in tiny little cans at a dollarish a pop which at twice a day, fourteen days, comes to twenty-eight dollars - if I am lucky
indeed the four yorkshireman sketch is close to my thoughts as I attempt to work out my fortnighly budget - pffft!
really I can't help but thing I should just blow the whole thing and just buy champagne instead
I almost wish I smoked so that I could futilely puff away a weeks worth of food in an hour via a long cigarette holder
but would you not be offended if someone said I don't thing you'll have a problem fitting in, I think it is more of an issue of you focussing on the work - after pointed and laboured questions like, have you ever worked in an open plan office before?
apparently I talked too much at the interview, but isn't one supposed to talk at an interview? Particularly if the person doing the interview doesn't actually ask you any questions? What was I supposed to do? I think it is because I've turned forty. I am less nice than I used to be. I wouldn't normally take offence, but in my last job I was working six and seven day weeks unpaid and ten hour days and even when I came back to work casual, after having resigned, had to point out to the person replacing me that it doesn't really work when updating the database if the person has written the wrong month down and hadn't she noticed? because it doesn't really work if it is only september and you are dating stuff off as having been done in November.
still ... that is all behind me now and I need to get a grip (but still it seems like a very rude thing to say at an interview - it was just ordinary chitchat for heavensake - the ol' I like to be busy and daytime television is aweful - Xena is my high point of the day blah blah blah).
my scooter blew a fuse at an inconvenient moment this week and I spent too much in that first initial first flush of money and now I am screwed, fuse or no - I really don't want to beg money from my mother, but may yet need to
my oldest and best beloved cat vomits if he is fed anything other than fancyfeast which is distributed in tiny little cans at a dollarish a pop which at twice a day, fourteen days, comes to twenty-eight dollars - if I am lucky
indeed the four yorkshireman sketch is close to my thoughts as I attempt to work out my fortnighly budget - pffft!
really I can't help but thing I should just blow the whole thing and just buy champagne instead
I almost wish I smoked so that I could futilely puff away a weeks worth of food in an hour via a long cigarette holder
but would you not be offended if someone said I don't thing you'll have a problem fitting in, I think it is more of an issue of you focussing on the work - after pointed and laboured questions like, have you ever worked in an open plan office before?
apparently I talked too much at the interview, but isn't one supposed to talk at an interview? Particularly if the person doing the interview doesn't actually ask you any questions? What was I supposed to do? I think it is because I've turned forty. I am less nice than I used to be. I wouldn't normally take offence, but in my last job I was working six and seven day weeks unpaid and ten hour days and even when I came back to work casual, after having resigned, had to point out to the person replacing me that it doesn't really work when updating the database if the person has written the wrong month down and hadn't she noticed? because it doesn't really work if it is only september and you are dating stuff off as having been done in November.
still ... that is all behind me now and I need to get a grip (but still it seems like a very rude thing to say at an interview - it was just ordinary chitchat for heavensake - the ol' I like to be busy and daytime television is aweful - Xena is my high point of the day blah blah blah).
(I promise not to mention Xena at an interview ever again - cross my heart)
(fuck me, what would have happened if I'd mentione Dr Phil?!)
Friday, January 6, 2012
hum ... truth?
my truth is a blazing red glowing sunburnt nose in a blotchy sweaty face with bleached brassy, strawberry blonde is such a flattering description for what it is, hair on a bloated body connected by a wobbly piece of flesh that used to be a neck (and it was rather a nice neck even if I do say so myself) slumped in a cheap multiple-hand chair watching the new TV version of Sherlock homes over and over again with the commentary on because I rather enjoy listening to intelligent interesting people talking about non serious things without the burden of having to try and participate whilst wiling away the time before Dr who starts and contemplating the six weeks it will be before I have any money to actually do anything with because of bills and accidentally becoming behind in my rent, actually it is down to four and a half weeks now, and in betwixt re-reading all the bill bryson, terry pratchett and tom Holt books i currently own and kicking myself for not getting up and cleaning my flat which desperately needs it but it is just too damned hot and humid to even seriously contemplate and i don't enjoy cleaning anyway, although a clean house is nice, it does still rather make me feel more exposed.
it reminds me of a passage in a lois mcmaster bujold book where the hero is describing his decent into alcohol fuelled oblivion and that it is not pleasant but is a very good method for repelling company
but then said character's son upon his hung over reflections of his own alcohol fuelled blotting out of a disaster remarks that a life in ruins with vomiting is still a life in ruins
which brings up the subject of alcohol and it is nearly four o'clock and surely four o'clock is not too early?
Tomorrow I shall be harsh with myself
I shall make myself move
even if it does mean sweat pimples and rashes where my thighs rub together
I shall scrub the bathroom floor with my scrubbing brush on a stick
and the kitchen floor shall be mopped to within an a quarter inch of its life
(spell-check insists that Sherlock should have a capital S, but holds no opinion regarding holmes - lol)
my truth is a blazing red glowing sunburnt nose in a blotchy sweaty face with bleached brassy, strawberry blonde is such a flattering description for what it is, hair on a bloated body connected by a wobbly piece of flesh that used to be a neck (and it was rather a nice neck even if I do say so myself) slumped in a cheap multiple-hand chair watching the new TV version of Sherlock homes over and over again with the commentary on because I rather enjoy listening to intelligent interesting people talking about non serious things without the burden of having to try and participate whilst wiling away the time before Dr who starts and contemplating the six weeks it will be before I have any money to actually do anything with because of bills and accidentally becoming behind in my rent, actually it is down to four and a half weeks now, and in betwixt re-reading all the bill bryson, terry pratchett and tom Holt books i currently own and kicking myself for not getting up and cleaning my flat which desperately needs it but it is just too damned hot and humid to even seriously contemplate and i don't enjoy cleaning anyway, although a clean house is nice, it does still rather make me feel more exposed.
it reminds me of a passage in a lois mcmaster bujold book where the hero is describing his decent into alcohol fuelled oblivion and that it is not pleasant but is a very good method for repelling company
but then said character's son upon his hung over reflections of his own alcohol fuelled blotting out of a disaster remarks that a life in ruins with vomiting is still a life in ruins
which brings up the subject of alcohol and it is nearly four o'clock and surely four o'clock is not too early?
Tomorrow I shall be harsh with myself
I shall make myself move
even if it does mean sweat pimples and rashes where my thighs rub together
I shall scrub the bathroom floor with my scrubbing brush on a stick
and the kitchen floor shall be mopped to within an a quarter inch of its life
(spell-check insists that Sherlock should have a capital S, but holds no opinion regarding holmes - lol)
Thursday, January 5, 2012
This one time ...
The ever delightful Dan Kelly is back and blogging - a bit - sort of - well one anyway - from beginning of December wot I didn't know about cause I have been slack with checking sites and it has been ages since he wrote anything anyway and I've been distracted - not that this one is earthshaking or anything, but it is still nice to hear there are new songs being writ, and it made me think of they time in Sydney when we rented a house but didn't have a lawnmower and the guy we hired would only come when we called and not just regular every fortnight like I wanted and one time I went out to the front yard started cutting it with scissors instead cause I'd heard a third or perhaps multiple hand story about someone who had Asian neighbors who used to always cut their lawn with scissors, which I think is probably bollocks.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Hello 2012
scootering along the road to my sisters this morning
i see what looks like a blown truck tyre or something
strips of mangled looking rubber
realise after i pass that it was actually a small flock of black cockatoos grazing on the grass beside the pathway (8 to 10 ish)
and do we not really just see what we expect to see?
and sight more in the brain than the eyes
cannot help but think this may indicate i am not be in the best frame of mind at this start of a new year
i see what looks like a blown truck tyre or something
strips of mangled looking rubber
realise after i pass that it was actually a small flock of black cockatoos grazing on the grass beside the pathway (8 to 10 ish)
and do we not really just see what we expect to see?
and sight more in the brain than the eyes
cannot help but think this may indicate i am not be in the best frame of mind at this start of a new year
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