Wednesday, November 17, 2004
I feel so sad, and it's so silly. You see, my office Christmas party is being held the day I leave for Perth for the CSAA conference. There's no way I can go. And it is universally acknowledged that I am one of my workplace's biggest party animals. This is so unjust.
This is the icing on a cake of me being increasingly unhappy with my career. Things are changing from underneath me at work, and my work friends are starting to leave for better things. Meanwhile, I'm stuck in media serfdom, and I don't know how I could get ahead. It seems you only get somewhere with the patronage of others; and I'm not even respected at work - everyone sees me as this dumb buffoon. But I have nobody to blame except myself for that.
On top of this, nobody is interested in my freelance ideas. And after this year, academic work will be very difficult for me to pursue without an institutional affiliation. But let's face it: I'm crap at that too. I was so humiliated today when Mel Gregg was quoting some undergrad student of hers, and I couldn't understand what the little fucker was saying. And I just want to cry when I think about my shithouse thesis. I really am thoroughly mediocre at everything I've ever put my hand to: advertising, academia, journalism. My career is a process of discovering new things I'm crap at and trying to do something else.
Di, bless her, has suggested that we have a secondary party on the banks of the Yarra after I get back. That is so nice of her, but it really is cold comfort.
This is the icing on a cake of me being increasingly unhappy with my career. Things are changing from underneath me at work, and my work friends are starting to leave for better things. Meanwhile, I'm stuck in media serfdom, and I don't know how I could get ahead. It seems you only get somewhere with the patronage of others; and I'm not even respected at work - everyone sees me as this dumb buffoon. But I have nobody to blame except myself for that.
On top of this, nobody is interested in my freelance ideas. And after this year, academic work will be very difficult for me to pursue without an institutional affiliation. But let's face it: I'm crap at that too. I was so humiliated today when Mel Gregg was quoting some undergrad student of hers, and I couldn't understand what the little fucker was saying. And I just want to cry when I think about my shithouse thesis. I really am thoroughly mediocre at everything I've ever put my hand to: advertising, academia, journalism. My career is a process of discovering new things I'm crap at and trying to do something else.
Di, bless her, has suggested that we have a secondary party on the banks of the Yarra after I get back. That is so nice of her, but it really is cold comfort.
