5 Stages to a Job Search

To those who don’t know I am back at home:

Now this is as wonderful as you may expect; I’m seeing family and old friends, walking around familiar streets and experiencing our cool climate – however it is also becoming increasingly frustrating. This is for one reason and one reason only: I’m on a hunt for a job, and a good one if you please.

So for your entertainment and my own cleansing I thought I would note down some of the stages to this job search so far – perhaps it may curse me forever, or perhaps (hopefully) the universe will decide to cut me break after this divine offering to the Blogosphere Gods.

Well we can always hope…anyway, here we go – in at number one:

1. Looking through the amazing opportunities:

(ENDLESS SCROLLING AND FUCKING CLICKING)



This is great at first as you can look through all of the wonderful positions and delight at how many there are! “I thought there were no jobs?” you chuckle with a moronic sneer to yourself, as if everyone was over-reacting and that somehow you are a genius who will slide into one of these roles so easily it’ll be as if you were always there…

Very quickly you begin to picture yourself in these roles – aaah yes there it is…an amazing image of a suited you dancing merrily in your mind’s eye at a workplace where everyone thinks you are hilarious. Unsatisfied you continue to design this world with further complexity…you will no doubt become a high-flyer, there will be lots of managers saying you did a great job, and everyone will just give you constant high fives for no real reason other than they want to be best pals, and…

But you have to stop your daydreaming at some stage or you will never get to the application process (this takes longer than others to get around to…)


2. Writing out the fine tapestry of your life:

(RE-WRITING YOUR RESUME AGAIN, AND AGAIN, AND AGAIN)



I blasted off 15 applications on my first day back at home…how? Well it was easy, I just found the jobs I liked and sent them a resume – case closed, that’s that! I then slapped my hands together and congratulated myself on a job well done with a sugary tea and a few chocolate brownies. Sounds great so far, I know.

But this isn’t always the case – actually it usually isn’t for any of the jobs you truly want. You see these corporate devils don’t want your CV (they are allergic to the sight of Microsoft Word I suppose), and instead want you to fill in the exact information that is on your existing resume into their own little boxes. Cue typing, and scrolling, typing and scrolling – until you are so bored of your own life story that you begin to wonder if you should bother in the first place. And you probably wouldn’t if it wasn’t for the whole needing money to feed, clothe and shelter you thing.

But eventually you get to the next hurdle…albeit with a sore clicking finger.


3. Patiently waiting for your dreams to come true…

(EXPERIENCING BOREDOM, EXHAUSTION, AND RAGE AT THE SAME TIME)



It is a well known and scientifically proven fact by the University of Job-Seekers Anonymous that time passes by at a tiny fraction of the rate it would ordinarily when you are waiting for a response about the job interview you just went on. Of course while you are waiting for the answer to what could be a huge section of your later best selling autobiography the people at the office will just be milling around…making cups of tea…talking about weekend plans and whatever else. You are not their priority. Hard to get your head around, but a sad reality.

This information doesn’t particularly help. You are still sat there stressing out and unable to focus on little else, thinking over all of the stupid things you said and all the tremendously impressive things you would have said if you were to be given a second chance…you also eat and drink constantly with little to no enjoyment, in fact grazing would be a better word.

This leads you to begin feeling like a big fat fucking moose as you fucking…argh, why are you such a big useless loser who – OOH AN EMAIL! YES! HERE WE GO FUTURE!


4. Not getting the job this time around…

(BEING TOLD IN A LOVELY WAY THAT YOU SUCK AND SHOULD NEVER LEAVE THE HOUSE)



Perhaps you weren’t right for the position, or you weren’t qualified/experienced enough, maybe the owner got someone they knew in or they hired internally…there are many reasons you may have not got it this time…but only one sticks in your mind and torments both your living and sleeping mind.

YOU ARE THE WORST LAHOOOOOSER EVER – IF YOU WERE TO SHOWER FOUR TIMES A DAY YOU STILL COULDN’T WASH THE LAHOOOOSR-ISHNESS OFF YOURSELF!

Or something like that. My point is your mind can be a cruel cruel thing…it is unrelenting and with each email and phone call your resolve only weakens and your lack of confidence grows. It’s pretty grim, but you should…


5. Recognise you are a great person, and that the right job will come along soon.

(HATE YOUR LIFE, AND ALL YOUR PAST CHOICES)



This is where I am at right now, or at least somewhere between these two polar opposites – things look bleak, and despite the fact it is sure to work its way out somehow/someway eventually…this offers very little comfort.

So drop some inspiration in the comments…a stage 6 if you will – it’s really what I need to hear right now! And who knows, we could help some others feel better about their job search at the same time!

FUCK SELFIES!

I feel like such a grumpy old man for saying this…but I still hate the whole selfie thing.

Not just like taking a photograph of you and your ice cream (or whatever) and then sending it to your friend all: “haha – you don’t have a fucking ice cream, and I do!” – because of course, that is fantastic and I would never want to deprive anyone of such a perverse pleasure…

I’m not even talking about getting a quick snap of you and your friends together to mark some kind of occasion…actually you know what I have no problem with the selfie in itself at all…

But what I do have an issue with is the non-stop: KA-CHURR! … KA-CHURR! … KA-CHURR!


(That was supposed to be the camera sound on phones by the way; was a difficult one to recreate phonetically!)

You see I’m sitting here in ArtCaffe – probably (definitely) drank too much coffee, but this person is sitting next to me taking photos at every angle – and has been doing so for over half an hour now. This cafe has basically became her own personal photo-shoot: but why? JUST WHY?!

I’m trying to see if there is anything special going on…she hasn’t even got one of the festive drinks – you know, the ‘Returning Favorite: Toffee Nut Latte’, perhaps I could understand the excitement in that case – why you would need 3,000 photographs of the same thing is beyond me, but still…actually wait – she hasn’t even bought anything! I thought for a second she may be taking photos of the new red cup – that would make sense it has been somewhat of a fiasco as of late…but NO! She has a carton of chocolate milkshake – which looks great and everything, but what…where have you pulled that from?! Who are you?! (and why aren’t you sharing? Man, it seriously looks delicious).



The thing is, in Korea the selfie is king (You can read it Here). There’s none of the shame surrounding it which I remember back home here in Kenya. I always thought that if you were by yourself taking photos of yourself in public non-stop, people would possibly (and quite rightly) – look at you as shallow, self-obsessed and well…entirely narcissistic. Here in SK that is still true, but because of the huge importance looks hold in this plastic surgery obsessed society, it is not considered to be a negative at all…so I am somewhat of a miserable island here, complaining all by myself to anyone who will listen (which is next to no one).

Ah phew, she’s left…rant over – and she didn’t even leave me any of the milkshake…what a so and so!

Punching Strangers

There’s something about seeing people bash their fellow human being’s faces in which really gets us all going…

I don’t know what it is exactly – perhaps it is rooted in our more animalistic side which we ordinarily stifle for the sake of being more civilised and not getting weird looks as we bulldoze through public places…or maybe we are just disgusting and should be euthanised for our cruel ways for the greater good…hmm, that’s entirely possible actually…



But whatever it is, and whether you choose to believe it or not, it is there. And things like boxing, UFC, and horrendous fail videos are blatant evidence of this.

Now as you probably all know already, or if you don’t you can look at photographs and work it out by reading between the lines – I am an exceptionally skilled fighter. Not just a brawler but an absolute powerhouse unit, kind of like a really big refrigerator except there’s no ice dispenser in there, just huge uncompromising punches to stranger’s faces…well no, more like a rhino. If rhinos could stand up and didn’t have such laughable fists – because my fists are way more like a…like a ball. Big basketballs of violence that slam dunk your head until you cry and wish you never pushed in front of me whilst queuing for ice cream.



So it makes complete sense that I went to watch a boxing match at Jericho social hall the other weekend…and isn’t an odd out of place incident in the slightest. Thank you very much; just wanted to clear that one up before we proceed…

Yeah so someone got me tickets, and I went along with a few friends to see what all of the fuss is about – one of which who asked “so you’re a big fan then?” Well no, I thought, but I think of myself as a aficionado of the classical arts and I respect the culture of the Ancient Greeks with their love of the theatre, and the Ancient Romans for their imposing colosseums as bastions for gladiatorial showdowns…and…FINE – I’m lying, I haven’t the foggiest idea about it aside from that they try to hurt each other.

However I did have one question: “will there be lions and swords?” No?! Dammit…then we’re going to have to get a lot of beer in to make this half-way tolerable…



And that we did. Despite a rule that meant the beer you bought at the stall you couldn’t bring into the actual viewing platform…”so you just want me to buy seven and drink as fast as I can before heading back in? CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!” No qualms there…and anyway, it certainly added a different sort of energy to the experience. Running in and out between rounds, and then moments later finding yourself in the humongous stench of the bathrooms alongside a hundred other men attempting the same impossible task; to both pee quickly despite the pressure, whilst also holding your Keg high enough that a pee splash beer cocktail wouldn’t occur. A version of heaven some may say??

Anyway the fights themselves were entertaining, certainly took me back to the school days where much of the day seemed to revolve around punching and kicking humans for questionable reasons…or at the very least planning to. But this time it wasn’t on the schoolyard, in a park, or at the back lane of a corner shop at 3:45…it was organised and with a bunch of fans cheering it on. Oh how times of changed, I thought to myself; perhaps this is what being a grown up is all about…



After the 100th jab to the persons head I tired of the spectacle somewhat…well no, that’s not entirely true – I was probably just finding it hard to keep my eyes glued in one place. The friend who appeared to be somewhat of a self-proclaimed expert was sleeping with his left hand glued to his chin (that last drink was a bad idea I suppose!) So I took myself off on a little walk, as is often the custom when one is severely off their rocker – and bought even more beer for reasons I can’t be sure of.

I then proceeded to forget the rule (or just flouted it altogether) by attempting to brazenly thrust myself through the security so I could effectively multi-task in my seat…by watching and drinking at the same time; and who know? Possibly I could do some peeing too if I was brave/intoxicated enough.

Of course I was stopped – but the hand wasn’t one of a huge imposing no-nonsense type that would be better placed as a tough cronie of a supervillain mastermind…it was instead a young Conjestina kinda lady, a student I imagine. I tried to be polite in my protests and naturally pretended like this wasn’t the 300th time I had been through: “OH…OH REALLY? EYEDIDNEVENNOO?!”, whilst making gestures that signalled I was totally unaware of the rules and it was all fresh new very interesting info she was giving me…“AHHH SOH-NO? AHHH RIGHT, YES”, I probably looked ridiculous, but in my head I was the master of disguise and deceit.



I then asked her how I would finish these four beers? A valid question! What should I do with them? Throw them away? Return them? Attempt to give them to the winner of the next boxing bout whilst saying “there you go, this is your golden reward!” Well no, of course not – that would be absolute lunacy.

So clearly there was only one thing for it…and after a very minimal amount of suggestion we chugged two each, high fived, and then continued about our business never to meet again. It was a beautiful moment.

The rest of the night is a blur – but I can say this, I enjoy watching punching a lot more than I do getting punched. That I can say with concrete confidence.

Death of People.

People keep dying, and I wish we could do something about it.

Not actually stop people from dying in general you understand; I mean that would be ridiculous, a mad scheme of a raving lunatic…something you would pull from a bad science-fiction novel (or something I would write, which is effectively the same thing), so yeah – no. Instead I am suggesting maybe some sort of system where we know when people will say goodbye to the physical world as we know it. That’s all.



I’ll let the technological boffins see to the details and the fine-tuning of the actual logistics of such a thing; I’m more of the Steve Jobs in this situation, barking out grandiose ideas and then coming back once they’re all done to unveil the finished article, (and then taking all the glory).

You see, I don’t like waking up to news about family who have passed away, which seemed to happen a lot in recent years…and I also don’t like hearing some of my favourite people from the world of celebrity are no longer with us. Just this year we’ve had Paul Steuer of Star Trek: The Next Generation and Dennis Edwards lead singer for The Temptations , last year it was Saliva Vic ( Jeremy Odhiambo) of 87.7 2Fm and Miguel Ferrer of NCIS Los Angeles, and then 2016 saw the untimely exit of Alan Rickman, Jerry Doyle, and Keo Woolford – I MEAN COME ON! IT’S RELENTLESS!



You see it’s not just those that are directly related to us that matter. The death of a beloved celebrity can be extremely personal…it goes a lot deeper than just people on the screen, or voices that sing on the radio. Those which connect to us on a deeper level become part of our lives, and as such part of our entire human existence. A movie which once provoked a feeling will forever be remembered, a song can become the background music for an entire section of our life or can spark a memory of past friendships, accomplishments, and possibly even failures. And so when these people leave us, seemingly so abruptly, it feels as if a piece of us has been lost – cut out with a crude tool leaving a Snape sized hole (or whatever it may be!) where he used to be nestled so comfortably moments before.

It’s the shock which is half of the problem. They’re here, and then the next day they’re suddenly not. Of course the fact that such a life countdown device (still working on a more catchy name) is not available at the moment means we can only attempt to grasp life with as much passion and vigor as humanely possible. We have no choice but to abide by the unforgiving rules of our species, and try to treasure the here and now as that’s all we have. And anyway do you really think a Starman or wizard can ever truly die? No fucking way…not when we can always relisten and rewatch. And even in the void their physical death leaves, you can never scrub away the lasting impression their short burst of life gave you…



I hate the idea of resting in peace – I’d much rather they dance vividly in my memories, just as they did before their deaths…that, in my opinion, is a much better way to view such bitter sadness.

The Day That Was.

Big Bro and Sadiq

Big Bro and Sadiq at the balcony

Tallman

Sonny, Tallman, Me and Big Bro

Her and Me

Big Bro

Mike and Big Bro

Eve's wine and Spirit at Mlolongo

Big Bro and Kennedy Munene

Me and Kalembe Ndile

Jogging into the Bottomless Pit.

It was the night before jogging and all through the house, my excitement was stirring – maybe soon I’d have a spouse. But then I awoke and with the toll of the alarm…my body was unwilling – getting fit, had lost it’s charm.

I’ve always been full of half-good ideas…you know; spontaneous expensive trips abroad instead of sensibly saving, new unnecessary shoes instead of paying the tax bill, pizza for both tea and breakfast whilst still expecting a six-pack to materialise – that sort of thing. The sort of things that can be somewhat cute and quirky when you are younger, but unfortunately start to seem silly once the boring grip of age takes a hold.



Now any choice I make seems HUGE; so huge that I often feel anxious even thinking about the what-ifs and the maybes…so huge that I occasionally feel like reverting to childhood where most decisions are made for you – so huge that I put huge in big massive capital letters so you know I’m not fucking around. Yeah, that huge.

Leaving Rwanda last year was one of those choices as it meant I was essentially hanging up my travelling boots and strapping on something a little smarter – simply put, I had loved it but it had run its course. And yet still I felt unsure of what would be, and there seemingly wasn’t much in the way of helpful articles out there other than people stating stuff like: “you will feel like a stranger in your own town”, “no one will understand you”, and “you will never ever feel like you have a home ever again”…
Great, fab, brilliant – shall I shoot myself now, or is that also a service you offer through your delightful blog?



But listen it’s not all doom and gloom – so don’t for a second start believing those dreamy lost fucks online. You are still you after all…in fact you are the best version of yourself that you have ever been, it’s called growth and experience people! Those big choices define who you are and mould you into the person you will be…sure they take some getting used to, but it’s worth it in the end. Your life is irrevocably different as a result but that doesn’t mean it’s suddenly total dog shit:

Case in point I thought it was a tribe sort of choice I was making by returning to Kenya after adventuring around the world. You know, leaving the “traveller” lifestyle behind and getting back to a “proper job”, aka trading in a vibrant and fun life for a boring and tedious one…as if I was fully expecting that the powers that be were readying the drill to forcibly redesign me as a droid devoid of human emotion, and in doing so erasing all of my weird and wonderful memories…such a cartoonish way of looking at things!

I’m still me, and I’m still making stupid choices – trust me you don’t trade in your motivations at the door (just this year I’m going to Tanzania, Uganda, Ethiopia, USA, and potentially Canada…) How’s the saving going? Piss off, pal.



What’s my point? Oh yeah, choices. Life is what you make it people..sure I wallowed for a bit (I am a complainer first and foremost), but now I’ve got a terrific job with KPLC which do tremendous work of developing technical and supervisory skills to the then East African Power and Lighting Company employees (worth checking them out here)…and you know what? Things are pretty great. I’m not a stranger in my town, in fact I love that I know people and that they know me – this is my home, but being away and coming back makes me recognise that home can actually be potentially anywhere. I love that fact, it makes the future a little blurry…just as it should be.

Don’t worry I’m never going to stop with the stupid choices – I mean if I did, what would I share with you delightful chaps on my site…movie reviews? Come on.

Actually…that would be less stressful for me – as my most recent stupid choice means I am set to run a half-marathon in support of “touching many more children’s hearts”. this year. Hence the 6am wake up call, and aching limbs. Urghhhh if legs could cry mine would be moaning like Myrtle – and I’m only two days in. SEND HELP.

Everyday Awkward

Here’s your daily dose of silliness – but something that is seriously all too common in my daily routine…can anyone else relate to my top five everyday awkward moments?

1. Showing someone a video/song, and immediately making excuses for it:



This happens to me a lot…usually it is a “funny” video – or a song that I think no one in their right mind couldn’t love…only to be met with blank stares. “Errrr, just stick with it! Err…it gets good soon…huh…hmm…it isn’t that funny on second thought…sorry…sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Then your friend pretends it wasn’t that bad, and the awkward circle continues.

2. Holding the door open for someone, after miscalculating how far away they were:



This was brought up on a recent post, but I think we can all agree that this one is a lurking MENACE. You are wandering along in your own world, you sort of realise someone is walking somewhere close behind you – naturally you hold open the door, only to look up, and see that they are A HUNDRED MILES AWAY!

Well, not exactly but it certainly feels like it. Again the awkwardness works on both sides, as you have to consider just letting the door close, and risking it slamming in their faces…or keeping it held open, and consequently forcing the stranger to quicken their pace, so that this horrible exchange can finally die. Urgh, how do we do away with this tradition?!

3. Saying “nice to meet you”, during a phone call:



At least people can’t see your facial expressions on the phone…because if they could they would see my face curl into a URGHHHLLLLLDURGGG when I find myself dropping this absolute clanger. I usually attempt to clear it up, with an automatic compliment…like the following…honestly, it doesn’t really work ~

“Nice to meet you.. oh, err – you have lovely eyes – SHIT, no. Errr…can, can…can we just start all this again please? It’s my first phone call ever, so I am a little nervous.”

– BEEEEEEEEP – Guess not.

4. Answering back with “you too”, despite it not being applicable:



This one can strike at any time – it seems to have a field day on birthdays though, you know like…“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” – “Oh, thanks, you too!” And then you have to stand there as a tumbleweed rolls on by. Or perhaps it’ll happen when dealing with restaurants ~ “Hope you enjoy your meal!” – “I will, thanks – you too.” ARGH! “

Why did you even think you could leave the house? Total lack of foresight on your part, I’m afraid! NEVER LEAVE YOUR CAVE, IT’S NOT SAFE!

5. Pushing a “pull” door, and pulling a “push” one:



It’s fine when there’s no one around…well, sort of – you still get a deep burst of sadness, that pushes its way all the way down to your core, and makes you feel worthless. But, still – at least no one saw it, and was able to pass smirking judgement.

This seems to happen more regularly (by horrific coincidence), when I am trying to imitate a cool, movie actor type walkaway. Something like…“well, I best be going – you take care now…see you when I see you.” The turn was perfect, your eyes were piercing, and there was a slight swish to your coat tail as you spun away from the now enchanted individual.

Cut to you, clumsily wrestling with the door, and then having to look back at the person, and use a pathetic, grovelling ‘he-he-he” laugh before you finally make your actual exit.

So, yeah – life…it can be a struggle! Are there any more I have missed out?