I must be giving out excellent professional vibes today.
A random stranger practically leapt out at me as I was barrelling across Bourke Street Mall today and asked 'you wouldn't happen to be looking for a job, would you?'
'Um, nooo,' I replied, and he disappeared. What in the hell was that about? What kind of job does one recruit strangers for on the basis that they happen to be walking past? If I hadn't been in such a hurry to get to the bank, open an account, and dash back the way I came in time to make a lunch date, I would have gone back and asked him WHY, just out of curiosity.
I was twenty minutes late for my lunch date, as it happened. Over papaya fish curry, I was chatting about my upcoming trip and my dilemma over whether to spend extra money I've earnt from a juicy freelance job on a side-trip to New York or on rent and basic living costs when I return to no job. To which my fellow diners responded by urging me to apply for a maternity leave position, as one of them will be taking leave later this year. It's a good job. I'm well qualified for it (if I say so myself!) and I've been working with this publication as a freelancer for over three years, so I know and like the team. And I'd get to leave after a year (my average and preferred length of time at a job) with no guilt attached. I'm tempted. But I did give F a very smug talk last night (in response to a question from him) about how I left my job to spend more time with him (true). So I really should stay on track and keep my nose out of it. Though I did leave promising that I would seriously consider it ...
It's nice to be asked, anyway.