Rangy Manatee

I am back. Like the hero from Wayfarin' Stranger, I've come home. Not to see my father, but to try out a life free from the grip of institutional education. So what do I find for myself to do here, in Newcastle, the ever-expanding, ever-growing, ever-exciting city? I find myself looking at jobs pages. Endless pages of large-boxed invitations and small-print teasers all of which fall into various painful categories of unsuitability. Boring, badly paid or interesting but requiring of either some qualification I've never heard of, or four years experience.

Arse bum.

As I look at these boxes I realise how little I know about the working world. Why so many jobs for the government and the council? I am so ignorant. What do these job titles mean? What does an 'administrative assistant level 2' do? Or an 'outreach guidance worker'?

Why do all the really shit bar jobs and shop jobs demand your presence all the time? They say things like 'needed for 20-40 hours a week daytime, most evenings and alternate weekends. Must be flexible'. What the fuck is that? If I was a doctor on call I might understand this demand on my time. These are shit, low paid jobs. Why take away my leisure time too? Why take away the only time I get to further an alternative career doing....something else.

I've just searched on a jobs site. The category 'literature and the arts' under the section 'north east' returned searches for 'branding' and 'marketing' positions for recruitment agencies, and one 'investment writer' which pays 40k. Oh christ.

I've been enjoying Spurious recently. There's a very interesting piece on contentment and education here.

As always, these questions are relevent. Where is the rage and the desire when one is contented and can get by? Why bother rocking the boat? Unfortunately for me, I'm struggling to pay the bills. There are a lot of bills to pay. Contentment is not a worry for me as yet. I never feel content. I've only ever felt content in the naked arms of my girlfriend. If only she paid my bills too...

Apologies, this is descending into a confused rant. Actually, reading it back I can see there's not so much a descent, rather a consistent treading of bile.

Still, Edinburgh was fun. Though, unfortunately, and perhaps rather predictably, not as much fun as hoped. Don't get me wrong, we had some great times and I saw some great shows and comedians while I was up there, but I can't help feeling that throughout the month there was a little too much bitching, whining, moaning, stressing, double-crossing and murdering. However, we got through the daily performance of the turgid dribble that was our play and came through it stronger (if perhaps slightly disillusioned) people.

New Bjork album purchased yesterday. Let me digest it before I comment.

Until next time...