Major life events

1. The last Confess.

2. The Black Robed One’s wedding, coupled with my first ever visit to Wales.

3. My “I can’t believe it’s not a job” is continuously interesting and conflicting.

I address these in order.

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Blame Dixie

Everyone makes mistakes in new jobs. It’s nearly impossible to tread perfectly over unfamiliar territory, and since I tend to learn by making mistakes most new jobsĀ  are fraught with peril. I am still having nightmares about frantically trying to remember how to ring up barcode-less yarn while a coworker chatted with a customer, distracting him from my panicked inexperience.

So when I caught the tail end of a conversation that sounded like “…blame Dixie. And we thought, that’s a good one, we need to keep that. Blame Dixie,” I thought the jig was up, I really had arsed up the Lamb’s Pride worsted vs Bulky till count for the last time. My short and glorious stint as a LYS teacher and sometime employee was over. I started composing my farewell letter.

Turns out it wasn’t that at all, it was from one of my students who’d been in to the shop buying wool like crazy. “She’s gotten me addicted,” she told people. “Blame Dixie for all this — she got me back into knitting.”

Well, that’s not so bad after all.

Labels galore

That designation you keep hearing about in the news, the “underemployed,” those strange misfits that sometimes get counted in the unemployment percentages and sometimes don’t, c’est moi. It’s a catchall designation. You could say I have all the benefits of being unemployed and employed: lots of time, very few responsibilities, lots of lying in, some money coming in, no gap in the CV, recent reference for next job. You could also say I have all the problems of both conditions: no money, have to be places on time anyway, job won’t look good on the CV, can’t be home with the cat, the flat gets grotty because I’m not following the boys around with a W5 cleaning square.

As it happens, all these things are true. Some days I have lots of time, others I have none. I have enough money in my pocket that I would be sad if I got mugged and had to give it to a knife-wielding idiot, but not so much that I can eat out and still be confident about paying the bills. And my flat is a mess.

Things could be a lot worse. I could have no job, or I could be underemployed at a place I didn’t really enjoy. I like working in a yarn shop, at least so far, and I really enjoy teaching knitting. So while I’m being mentioned on the news far more than the vast majority of people who are either working or out of work, I’m not too sad about it. I might be sadder when I realise my qualifications have gone stale while I gallivanted across Dublin’s fibre scene, but for the time being, things are good.

Is this thing on?

As Cobweb has been hacked more often than it has been updated recently, and most contributing members have blogs elsewhere, I am considering making the move to a new and separate blog. One that may or may not be full of knitting and gaming content, depending on which hobby I am indulging at the time.