On Jaws And Jawing

Yesterday’s workshop on conflict management was fun.  I learned that there are five types of managing styles: turtle, teddy bear, fox, shark and owl.  I scored equally well as fox and owl, so I suppose that makes me fowl.

I’m certainly not a fish.  I suspect the Hub might be one.  A shark, that is.  When he said to me, ‘Can you believe it’s been twenty-seven years?’  I came over all uncharacteristically sentimental: ‘We haven’t done a bad job, have we?’  He replied, ‘Well, I’ve had to work bloody hard.’

My new skills immediately came into play: ‘When you make jokes at my expense,’ I said, ‘I feel hurt and frustrated.  Because you are encroaching on my job.’

Turns out poking fun at my family is not my only job.  We received one of those annoying dinner-time calls masquerading as a ‘survey’, from someone somewhere selling something we don’t desire or need.  New readers may not know of the Hub’s habit of having fun with these people; if you are interested, you can read about it here, here and here.

I was making dinner (of course) and didn’t hear the whole conversation, but I do know that when she asked for Mrs Tilly Bud, the Hub answered ‘Speaking,’ in a deep Italian-South African accent.  A complete stranger now thinks I vehemently oppose cancer research and my way of helping the homeless is to donate a tent.  She doesn’t mind, however, as she has an invitation to stay over when she’s next passing through Stockport.  I doubt she’ll take me up on it: my profession is ‘Lady of the Night.’ 

The caller did not deviate from her script: ‘Is that full- or part-time?’

*

*

I Live And Learn

Image via Wikipedia

Following the photography ‘course’, I have another workshop today; something about committees.  I have no idea what I’ll be doing but it sounded like it might be useful for my cv, so I signed up.

I love taking workshops and courses and increasing my knowledge.  My ideal holiday would be a week of summer school.  I don’t think my family would be so keen on it.  However, if we took a games console with us, they wouldn’t notice.

Between 1997 and now I have taken three-and-a-half A Levels, an honours degree, three computer courses, two writing courses, one job course, countless poetry workshops and many skills workshops.  There hasn’t been one I didn’t enjoy, though the year of the Open University English Language course bummed me out a little.

I also have extensive volunteer experience: you need someone to make tea, paste worksheets into books, wipe the poo from the bottom of a child’s shoe and take money at the door?  I’m your man. 

None of this is doing me any good in my job search.  Employers naturally prefer the recently redundant but up-to-date skills-wise to the eager to learn and willing to turn her hand to anything but hasn’t had paid employment for twenty-one years novice.

It’s probably just as well: if I had a job, I’d miss today’s committee thing and the free lunch beforehand. 

I’ve signed up for seven more workshops so far this year; who has time to work?