I don't know what to name this post.

The thing with school being over is that I now have time to listen to the rain falling outside my window. Which,really,is great,because now I do things like blog in the middle of the night and check out eeeeeeeveryone's websites. And facebook pages. In fact,I actually played the numbers game. Fun times. I had to resist the temptation to send my number to the people who liked the group called 'If you send me your number,I'll punch you in the face.' I'm not masochistic. Just easily amused.

Now,The Folks have noticed how much time and how little money I have on my hands (or not,actually). I'm convinced it's a control tactic. What am I saying? OF COURSE it's a control tactic. If they don't fund my exploits,there can't very well BE any exploits,can there. Smart. Probably something to do with the age thing.

So once again we come back to the problem of funding. MUST. FIND. JOB. Unfortunately,bumming does not pay (in salary form. In a healthy development of critical analysis of daytime tv? Oh yeah.). But finding a job in this our Kenya is not easy. Unless you're a...um...and it's irritating that the system is set up in such a way that I probably have to know someone to get anywhere. What IS that? Do I have to kiss the arse of The Man to get into the very system that I so detest? Don't people realize that everyone in the rat race is still a rat? Je,huu ni ungwana? We demand justice! *waving flag. Or something.* I'm not good with systems. It's why I don't comb my hair. *next post*

So in the interest of avoiding thieving and/or selling body parts, (HA! Pun intended,if you read the last post) I've been sending my cvs out to anyone who's anyone (that's not true. I'm trying to look industrious,but I'm actually very,very picky. Which works for my laziness). And Kenyan companies...oiyoyoi. My goodness,the depth of unprofessionalism that has seeped into the job market and bloody well built a city is ridiculous. It frustrates me to no end that companies do not have the decency to reply application emails. Even to say no,so I know,so I move on. Or to say,um,you're not what we're looking for. Or no,but we do need a cleaner for the 5th floor. Anything. If I ever run my own company,I'll reply the emails. Don't look at me like that. I will. But what's the point of a secretary? Or a human resource manager? I swear,Kenya is going to the dogs because of people like these. Not the serial killers,or the farters in crowded matatus-oh no. They who do not reply emails from poor jobless sweet innocent broke girls? Far,far worse.

I'm beginning to think I should've done med. Or law. Before you (and I) laugh,think about it. The job security is great. Because then I would know I'd get a job immediately after. AND I'd have a 'Dr.' next to my name after my FIRST degree. Plus,it sounds good with the ladies. (like that awesome instruction manual on the back of Axe 2-in-1 Shampoo and Conditioner: Wash. Attract. Repeat. :D) This mambo of cvs...inaniwaste,jo. I should sijui start my own business,no? And the thing that bugs me most #NARCISSISTalert is that when I become famous because I'm so awesome and talented,they'll be begging me to work for them. Nasty buggers.

Pet thinks they won't hire me anyway,because of my hair.

tSN

check out www.thegreencalabash.com. One of my personal favorites: Bringing Baby Home. :D