Monthly Archives: March 2014

this is not at all what I sat down to blog about

So I broke up with my therapist, that’s a thing that happened. I was so freaked out about it, I actually googled for tips. The best of the results I found said that a healthy mature adult would discuss it honestly, but if you were that you wouldn’t be in therapy, so do what you need to do. So at the end of what turned out to be our last session, when she said when shall we meet again, I said actually I was thinking of stopping this now, and she said let’s take a break, you can call me back in a few weeks. So she actually deployed the Kafka Relationship Dissolver, not I, which is kinda weird, but whatever. I’m too avoidant to give it much more thought.

I didn’t call her back after three weeks. You probably guessed that.  Continue reading

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so, the job…

So yeah, I started this job in February. Half of it is proofreading English texts for the SFB 933, which is a massive interdisciplinary research project about texts as material objects in pre-printing societies, so I am learning a LOT of really interesting stuff about hieroglyphics and illuminated manuscripts and clay tablets – and forgetting it immediately , because my brain is like a sponge, apply the least bit of pressure and everything squooges out all over the place. That may not be the original meaning of that metaphor. Anyway. I have a job!

The other half is substitute-substitute-secretarial work, right? A finance secretary got elected to some council or other so another secretary in the department took over as finance secretary, so her duties will now be mine, as long as the other secretary doesn’t get un-elected. Some of it’s very fun, but I also have to write emails! In German! I am not… overly excited about my writing skills in German, what with it being all really fuckin’ hard and stuff.

But I have a job. And it’s been a lifejacket in the sea of worthlessness I fell into during the last year and a half of unemployment, so there’s that. Now if the fricken HR people would stop thinking of stupid non-existent things to ask me for and clear my contract so I could get paid? That’d be great, thanks.

Song du jour of the day: Read All About It, by Emeli Sandé.