Shut-in Princess

This story speaks to us. A cautionary tale of what can happen if your whole world revolves around the Internet…

Written by Numi-kun; the original can be found on her tumbler:  http://namface.tumblr.com/post/10723163211/s-so-rushed-but-done-now-to-fake-a-100pg-folio-of

 

 

 

Math-tastrophe

As you know, I am in the process of finding a job. It has been a long and frustrating experience. At times it feels like I am qualified for nothing – completely useless. So a few days ago I saw this job post: “Eccentric vet looking for a veterinary assistant/ receptionist. No experience necessary.” I should have known then that this was too good to be true. No boss should ever advertise themselves as being eccentric (in my mind the following bosses are eccentric: the boss in Dilbert, Michael Scott, and Bill Lumbergh).

However, I am very passionate about animal welfare and I always thought of myself as someone who could excel in a medical field if given the opportunity. So I applied. The very next day, I get a call:

“Um, hi! This is Jenny from the Vet’s Office and we would like to schedule an interview.”

“Great!” I was really excited. “When?”

“In an hour?”

I live on the other side of town and hate driving, so it would take me more than an hour to get there, but I was really excited. I quickly got dressed and ran to the bus stop. Surprisingly, it only took me 45 minutes to get to the Vet Clinic, which I took as a sign of ‘fate.’ However, fate is often a cruel bitch.

When I walked into the building, I was greeted by a sad-looking, middle-aged, balding white man. He squeezed my hand as if we were entering into an arm wrestling match and handed me a clipboard. “Oh great,” I thought. “One of those stupid pre-employment questionnaires.” You know, the ones that ask you to rate yourself on a scale of 1 to 10 at meaningless things like teamwork, enthusiasm and eagerness to learn. I was wrong. Oh how I wish it were one of those stupid questionnaires…

It was a math test! Seriously!

Suddenly I started to experience flashbacks to my high school years. My hands became clammy, my heart started to race. Quick! What is the fraction of .33? How many cups of food does a dog need if his daily energy need is 35cal/kg? If I have 3 pills and 8 cats how do I cure canine diabetes? My mind went blank. I stared at the test for what felt like hours. Somewhere along the way I realized that I was suffering from an acute test anxiety. Of course, when I realized this I tried to calm myself down, which made me even more anxious. Numbers started to swim in front of my eyes and I couldn’t even calculate 24/2 without writing it out long division style.

Needless to say, I guessed most of the answers (for one of the questions asking about the number of cans of food you would send home with a sick dog, I was so nervous that I misread the word ‘cans’ as ‘cats.’ I said, “zero. Hahaha, trick question”). When I gave my test back to the sad, balding man he looked at it for a total of 10 seconds before announcing that I was not right for the job.

I felt dejected. I walked 5 blocks back to the bus stop, my interview shoes creating more blisters on my feet – my little puss-filled battle scars of the job hunt. I felt so stupid. I know that math is not my strong suit, but at that moment I felt handicapped. I wondered how it is that I am able to walk without falling down, and is there any possible way of getting compensated for my math disability.

At the end of the day, believe it or not, this was a learning experience. I examined the situation carefully (my defense mechanisms kicking in to protect my ego) and spotted some signs that should have warned me to be cautious:

1. As I said before, ‘eccentric’ = quirky (or at the very least incompetent).

2. When they ask you to come to an interview in an hour, they are testing to see how well you can be manipulated or how desperate you are – obviously I failed.

3. Any time you are required to do calculations at work, they are always job specific. As an adult you will never need to know every single mathematical equation (unless you teach math, of course). Most people are rusty, but can pick up the necessary math skills very easily. As a result, these ‘skill-testing’ questions are not indicative of your level of intelligence.

4. Finally, anyone who refuses to have a conversation with you and just shoves a test in front of your face after you schlepped your ass clear across town is not worth your time.

Anyway, I am over it. I am not giving up on the job hunt, but for now I think I am going to stick with what I know and stop trying to live in a childhood fantasy where the “you-can-be-anything-you-want” myth runs rampant.

Everyone has Food insecurities…

I had to do a school project.

I worked hard, wrote lots, and drew some picutres.

I wrote in my final report that food security mainly concerns the safe and consistent access of food at all times to all people.

I have no food worries as a Canadian living with year-round access to fresh fruits, vegetables, and wide assortment of grains, some may argue:

But, I can think of another group of people not so dissimilar from us who have food security issues:

It’s a game-changing event, being transformed into a Zombie. All of a sudden, what appealed to the palate before, now disgusts. Only one thing can quench the fire of hunger:

Brains.

And not just any old brains, but Human brains.

And for some reason, your hands turn into grey mitts with the worst manicure known to human kind.

The point is, however, that all of a sudden the variety of things you had access to and enjoyed before has been needlessly reduced, and now you rely on only one type of food for sustenance.

 Oh, and your food is constantly running away from you.

Oh, and for some reason your mobility has been reduced to a lack-lustre shuffle (unless, of course, you were part of that movie 28 days later, then you’ve become the kind of Zombie who can make 100m Olympic sprinters sweat).

So before you scoff at the idea that Canadians have food insecureaties, think of the Zombies.

Do they ever have food security?
Fin.