Dear dole diary. I know I am a temporary burden on society, but I've made a resolution to dress properly (no thongs) and show enthusiasm when applying for jobs. I believe this new government requirement for dole diaries will boost the paper industry, encourage literature and reduce graffiti. This morning I had a proper shave, and a sensible breakfast — cornflakes. I felt like a true Australian but wish I could afford that sports fibre stuff the Olympic team eat.
There was nothing much in the old fridge apart from a roach. It's amazing how they can survive in there. It's incredible how, despite their small legs, they dive for cover while you're thinking for a half second about squashing them. I'm envious of their survival skills and wish I could act without hesitation or remorse like that. Sorry, Diary: I digress.
The minister said today that concert pianists should apply for other jobs. I agree, in fact they should sell their grand pianos. After all, they've been superseded by digital technology and they take up valuable rental space.
I have applied for several jobs by a method known as cold canvassing i.e. going out on winter mornings to visit employers face to face. I have documented the responses for the government's records:
1. Sorry, we're very busy right now. Please wait over there.
2. Sorry, the boss won't be in till 11am.
3. Sorry, you'll have to write to our head office in Melbourne.
4. Are you a qualified chef? Sorry, we can't help you.
Everyone said sorry in an irritated tone of voice, as if I wanted to take their own job away from them.
I called at the CES. Thankfully, despite the rumours, it was still there. In some countries, they don't have a CES. It was reassuring to know there was a warm place to go. I queued there for a few hours. There seemed to be many more people there, but not very many behind the counter. There were only two jobs posted, for chefs. I inquired politely about training to become a chef. They said that training programs had been frozen and quoted the minister about prudent fiscal management.
Fortunately, because I was categorised as LTU (long-term unemployed), they referred me to Elaine, who explained she was my case manager. I felt very privileged to have a special manager assigned to my personal case. Elaine suggested I join a Job Club, which is neither a job nor a club but a valuable opportunity to meet other interesting unemployed people and write excellent job applications and impressive CVs.
I agreed because one of my streetwise mates had told me it was not a smart thing to disagree with a case manager because they would record that the client has the wrong attitude and is an unmotivated burden on taxpayers. So I said I was definitely interested because it would be encouraging and character building even if there were no actual jobs at the moment.
I'm not sure that was the best answer. She took a deep breath and recommended I try some casual work to keep up my work habits, such as: posing for art classes; donating blood; sleep experiments at the university.
I declined the art classes because I doubted that my body would be fashionable unless they wanted the pallid Renaissance look. Likewise I didn't think my blood was premium grade on account of my poor diet etc. The sleep experiments sounded like the go. I have no problems sleeping well in unusual places.
After the CES interview, I felt very encouraged and spent the afternoon busking in the plaza. There were so many buskers, it was difficult to find a place where they weren't playing music or trying very hard to sell Green Left papers. Anyway I made $17.65, which was just enough for a packet of Fisherman's Friends, a new guitar string and the bus home.
Dear diary. It's been a long day and I thank all the generous taxpayers of Australia for supporting me ($158.35 gross each week) through this very difficult time for myself and the economy. Bye for now.
[The above has been circulating through the public service.]