Attempting life as an adult

Tag Archives: money


“Welcome, welcome, the time has come to select one courageous man and woman” – Wait. Is this the hunger games i’m entering?
Nope, it’s just another job application. Although there isn’t the inevitable threat of death, don’t be fooled, part of you will die – your soul.

Applying for jobs nowadays feels like your volunteering as tribute in a fight to the death of future employment. The questions, the tests, the stages, the interviews – WHY GOD, WHY?! It all makes me think Gale was right when he said “they just want a good show, that’s all they want”. Why else would a company subject other human beings to this torture if it wasn’t for the shits and giggles of it all.

The Districts – different universities.

District Representatives – other applicants, potentially old classmates.

The Capitol – the merciless employer.

The Arena – the job application.

Me – Jennifer Lawrence, the resemblance is uncanny i know.

My Mentor – my cv, (which might as well be a drunken Woody Harrelson from the mismatch jobs                        I’ve had in my lifetime).

STAGE 1: Job Applications questions;

You see a job advertisement online and before you know your saying: “I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE”. Instantly you regret it when the likes of this question pop up;

“What was the last thing you wondered about” – a genuine job application question I answered.

Right ok, you got this, you are Katniss Everdeen. Just give an answer that’s interesting, funny, and up to date with current affairs. Oh and remember to sound intelligent, but not too pretentious that you come across as an arse, but then again not too simple that it makes you look like a Kardashian.

STAGE 2: Tests; 

You receive an email. They want you to come in for an interview after impressing them with your witty, intelligent and down to earth answers right? Nope. They want to test your ability to answer more pointless questions, but wait for it, this time you’re timed. Right Katniss, just think of it as another higher english test. I’m sure this requirement wasn’t in the ‘ideal candidate’ section.

“Right here we go, this isn’t too bad – I think it’s this answer – phew that was close – wait – what? – What does that mean? – I don’t get it – ”

*session has expired* 


STAGE 3: The assessment centre; 

Finally the time comes to enter the real arena and the games can officially begin. You meet the other tributes, eyeing every one of them up and instantly there is a mutual hatred for each other. Like the hunger games, there is a group training exercise and other tributes who have trained for the games can show off their skills. Again, just like the Hunger Games, only one comes out victorious and I’ll be damned if it’s not me.
But wait, you meet your very own Rue.
That person is the only one you can relate to in a room full of pretentious twats. But she has to go, you have to outshine them all because this the hunger games and there’s only one job position!

STAGE 4: The Interview;

The time has come to remember everything your mentor taught you. Impress them with your made up skills from your CV. OH, tell them how much Nick Knowles liked your soy lattes, that’s bound to impress them, but maybe leave out the part about the accidental burn. Like a bow and arrow, take aim with your buzz words and release a perfectly rehearsed one-liner. BBHAAM, Jennifer Lawrence who?

At the end you take stock and for a second you think you’re the last one standing, everyone’s dead. But your glory is short lived, as a week later you receive an announcement from the capitol and your reminded that there can only be one winner in the hunger games, and it’s not you. Despite the extraordinary resemblance, you are not Jennifer Lawrence, you are just a ploy in their twisted game.

In desperation you reach for the poisonous berries and guzzle them down as you can’t let these vicious corporations get away these acts of torture. But they’re not poisonous berries, they’re grapes, and the only thing they’ve destroyed is your soul.



Have you ever been on your own in a public place – I call it just another weekday but that’s another story, and forgot that you were in fact alone?

Unfortunately I do it all the time: I’ve started bouncing my shoulders to “n***** in paris” whilst being at the gym like I was in some sort of club; I might have accidentally picked my nose whilst being in the library, much to an onlooker’s horror. You’d think by now I’d be immune to the embarrassment but no.

The other day I was getting money out at a busy cash machine, and at the end of my transaction, before I took my money, the question “would you like advice on your account?” appeared on screen, my reaction;

“Haha. eh NO.”

This sudden outburst prompted the guy behind me to ask “Is it out of money?”

“aw, eh no, sorry it just asked me if I wanted money advice and I was like obviously not…..”



It was distinctly awkward, however I was still laughing to myself by the fact that my financial situation had got so bad that cash machine’s were now offering me advice on how to deal with my account.

If there is one thing I do in life with consistency, it’s avoiding checking my bank balance.

Always- *CASH ONLY*

No, I do not want to know how skint I am. No, I do not want to see that red little minus sign next to numbers. No, I do not want to be depressed. I’d rather live in blissful ignorance over my financial situation, thank you very much.

I am hopeless with money. Literally hopeless. When I turned 18 I thought I was being sensible by not getting an overdraft so I rewarded myself with a shiny pink credit card. That didn’t last long.

Therefore, going to cash machine’s brings me both joy and sadness as I have a love/hate relationship with banks. They give me money, yet they only contribute to my blissful ignorance of living in a state of denial, prancing about like I am some sort of lady of leisure.

“Wagamamas? -YES.”
“Gumbo? – YES.”
“Cocktails? – do you really need to ask?”

(maybe I just like food too much)

What I find laughable though is when, on occasion, you may actually refuse an offer to do something with the excuse of being skint, the response;

“just come, I’m skint too I had to go into my overdraft this week”

Relief comes over you hearing that you are not alone in this situation.

“it sucks doesn’t it, how much you in now?”

“like -£50”


I like to compare this situation to exam time when the smartest person in your class say’s they’re shitting it for an exam, when you know perfectly well they started exam prep three months prior and will walk out with a first. Bitch please.

Ugh, people who are good with their money annoy me. I call them boring. Because there is an upside to being in debt. With that shiny pink credit card I got a trip to thailand out of it! Yes, I may not be able to get a mortgage but hell, I drank pina coladas with tiny asian men and if that doesn’t warrant a good story then I don’t know what does.