Monday: A typical day at the "home office". I cook. I clean. I cook ... I clean.
Tuesday: The revving of a chainsaw signals my suspicious neighbour's return from "overseas". It's 8am, and no surprises, he madly goes about giving the nephrolepis cordifolia beneath my front window - a jagged #1 haircut ....But with a chainsaw?
I want to yell: STOP right there! you pointy-headed feral! Instead, I retreat behind a curtain. After all, the fern will soon grow back .... And things could be worse!
Wednesday arrives with a word of warning: Beware job offers made beneath the glare of a full moon.
However, I answer the call, seize the day and the employment opportunity - with relish ....Make that tomato relish (so it turns out). This puts to one side, my thoughts on how to avoid my Fishbone fern challenged neighbour.
I shave my whiskers ....What a difference that makes. And, I present my job-ready self to my new employer. On day one, I'd hate to resemble a freelance unemployee that's let herself go (like Ronn Moss with that post Bold & Beaut ...semi-up-do. What indeed is he thinking?).
Thursday: So with the full moon and the job offer, comes the Catch-22. I'm asked to bring my own laptop. Easy. My 10 inch notebook does the trick. It's all I have ....can afford (however I do love it for its portability). I imagine it's only temporary, and in no time I expect to be given my own desk/space to sit at? ...And maybe a fixed computer, that's bigger than a postage stamp? (unlike my notebook laptop, that is) ...just like the other employees who sit at normal computers (like grown-ups and not the work-experience kid) ... on their own cushiony, swivelling office chairs ....at individual desks - with drawers. (And endearing snaps of cats or their darling nuclear families, plastered all over adjacent filing cabinets.)
But no cigar there, and I discover there's a workplace apartheid in operation and my no-fixed/make shift workspace ...is permanent? However, we're all equal in that everyone's entitled to toilet roll! Could be worse.
But wait, there's more!!
Friday: On day three I discover the HR guy isn't joking when he insists, in order to be paid, I must provide an ABN (Australian Business Number). And he won't take my no for answer, when I (congenially) tell him that the ATO (Australian Tax Office) won't give me one - since I'm not, nor ever have been - a sole trader, contractor, or business owner.
He replies (congenially) that he will only complete my contract when I have that number. And I begin to think, that my new "job" is starting to look more like a Rubik's Cube.