February 1, 2014

Mr Darcy, You've Got Mail ! [Mutual Obligations: ep 14]

After Mr Darcy's request, for that  Hawaiian massage (too true! and so out of character), and then his suggestion,  I participate in another dreary month long, job search activity - I look forward to forgetting the day's tiresome events. 

But the night belongs to a rabbit

My one desire is for a peaceful night's rest. However, instead of recuperation, the darkness only brings a disturbing dream ....where  I'm working in a job centre (wow! I got a job!).  And my boss is Mr Darcy!

The studster is pivotal in recruiting me as part of a work-for-the-dole scheme. However, because I'm one of the great unwashed, unemployed, riff-raff - he doesn't trust me. He won't let me answer the phone, dust the light fittings, empty the bins, re-arrange the filing system by Dewey Decimal Classification, or even (to pass time) provide a no frills Hawaiian massage.

I'm solely employed, to keep an eye on his pet rabbit, 24/7. Why? 

Peace finally arrives, when the dawn sunlight filters through, and ends the terror. But the reality of the new day, is clouded by the indelible bothersome memory of having to hold Mr Darcy's rabbit, like a baby, 24/7!  

For the entire dream, my emotions had been in turmoil, from the constant fear I'd lose my grip on Bugs Bunny, thus enabling the sneaky rodent to escape.....An outcome, which Darcy said, would lead to a breach of my mutual obligation participation requirements!

Mr Sandman, why did you bring me that dream?

In the comfort of the morning stillness, I know there has to be an explanation.  So after a double espresso, I google the experts. 

I discover, that in dreams, rabbits (being prolific and productive animals), symbolize prosperity. Even if the rabbit is "hit by a bus", and ends up - baked, roasted, in lasagna, or grilled - Arabian dream doctors, still link them with successful earnings or profit. So, it's obvious, that better outcomes would have resulted (for all parties), had I dreamed that rabbit stew scenario in Fatal Attraction.  Which I have to say, would be a lifestyle improvement for ANY rabbit, left in the care of Mr Darcy.

Regardless, that shifty little rabbit was a survivor. BUT, further reading tells me, that rabbit dreams also indicate fear and timidity. And, the dreamer is advised to ask himself, if there is someone in his life that causes all these feelings?

Clearly it's the studster, and my fear of - not funnel web spiders (visible signs of ageing, climate change, a blind-date with MP Christopher Pyne, bills-shock, myxomatosis, unmanageable facial hair, or cellulite) - but having to sit through more tedious jobskills sessions. 
Gosh! ....Who would have known that a fluffy bunny could reveal so much? Moreover, "dream scientists" have proven that the best way to overcome such fears, is to face them. 

Clearly, the studster has to be shown, that I will no longer tolerate, any further mutual obligation madness!

So with no time to waste, for the sake of sanity, a decent night's sleep, and a logical way forward - through my joblessness - I vow to say NO MORE! .....to the unrelenting Mr Darcy. 

Would the real Mr Darcy please stand up?

BUT, in the deep recesses of my mind (that is, the mind of the hormone ravaged dame that I am), I start to think about the day before and ponder: was Darcy really, after all, just longing for a cost effective Hawaiian massage? Were experienced, unemployed, uber-cougars like myself, easy prey, and his particular femme de choix? 

Was it all really about that Mr Darcy? Are you so time poor that you can't just nip out of the agency in your lunch break, and get a quick "cut and polish" so to speak, from that little salon de massage - just around the corner? 

And, Mr Darcy, why are you so reduced to relying on the unemployed, to get that annoying twang out of your back? Yes, we low-life unemployables may be a good source of cheap, disposable labour, but Mr Darcy - get real! ....It's just not cricket. I digress.

Then Darcy keeps me ....hanging on the telephone

So as an astute woman of uncertain age, I naturally telephone the JSA agency. 

I call once, twice, three times. Each time the sweet girl at the job network says that Darcy is: either busy, dealing with another client, or out of the office. She says, "It's probably best you send him an email." 

"Jolly good idea, why hadn't I thought of that before? ... oh I know why ...I forgot it was the 21st century.....no wonder I'm still unemployed," I reply.

And so I write:


I press send, and following my email, expect to hear nothing more of the matter.



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