As a musician (or, to be more specific, as a young and relatively-cheaper-to-hire musician), chances are you’ll be asked to do at least five million gigs before you hit 25. NEVER underestimate the power of a gig. A ‘bad’ gig can damage more than just your morale. In order to preserve your friendships, sanity, petrol, and bank balance, I suggest thou readest on.
A motorbike’s carrying power should never be underestimated. Minutes after touching down in Phnom Penh I was marvelling at the acrobatic precision of a young boy twisting and turning a giant truck fender through the pulsing traffic. A family of five whizzed through the streets on their ‘sedan’. One man, while talking on his mobile, sat taking notes in a book wedged between himself and the driver. Others were loaded up with colourful fruit, veggies and produce from the markets, bags hanging from every nook and cranny.
Zigzagging through the city, life was loud and unabated. But street 264, a quiet bougainvillea and Buddhist Watt lined haven, was my final port of call. After months of dreaming, planning and anticipation I was suddenly ‘Gemma from the Phnom Penh Post.’
After finishing my last working day at Lithgow Hospital last week, I have become nostalgic and felt like reflecting on a few things that full time work has taught me:
Who would have thought that our government is so wonderful. Well, at least working for the government has some great perks. I get paid to participate in relevant courses to my job (and it's highly encouraged). Work stays at work and 4:30pm onwards is my time. I get one day off a month to do as a I please just because I work an extra 1/2 hour a day. I earn an extra $7.50 a fortnight for laundry allowance. Plus I am entitled to snow leave.....
Hello interwebs. Sincere apologies regarding my lengthy absence on Sydney Life. Here's what I've been doing...
When I set out last year to finish my Arts Honours in Sociology and Social Policy, it all really started as a personal project. I was out to investigate the experiences of same-sex attracted (SSA) Australians from Arabic-speaking backgrounds. Little did I know, but my 20,000-word thesis would land me a commission to investigate the issue on a larger scale. I am about to embark on writing a government-funded report which will form the intellectual infrastructure for a campaign to change homophobic attitudes in Arabic communities. Not bad for an Arts degree, huh?
After a long, long, loooong hiatus, I am finally back in BlogTown. Oh yes, strap yourselves in, wave goodbye, and get set for the the comeback blog of your life...
As you can see, not much has changed. My blogs continue to be self-indulgent and ... well, self-indulgent. Forgive me as we return to where we last saw each other...
Rhetorical question for the day: why is there a need to get engaged straight after leaving uni??
Housework used to be one of those items on my to do list that was expendable. If I was feeling generous, or rather guilty, I would perhaps do some washing or unpack the dishwasher. But those days are gone as housework has come to claim revenge on my independent living style. See, I have moved out of home, into the nursing quarters of Katoomba hospital.
Today, I woke up at 6:30am. Tomorrow, I will again wake up at 6:30. Then it’s the weekend. But the week after that I will be arising at 6:30 am every day. Yes my dear friends, the time has come for me to abandon my indulgent uni holidays and ripped jeans, for I indeed started my graduate job today.
This place is really nice.
But there are other nice things in life too.
The first time I heard Meryl Streep (as Miranda Priestley) utter her famous dictum, 'That's all,' it sent shivers down my spine. Oh yes, the Prada-clad demon (loosely based on US Vogue editor Anna 'Nuclear' Wintour) made me think of all the nasty, conniving employers out there. And injected me with a dose of fear and panic, staving off my desire for full-time work for....oh, at least another four years.
I think it is fair to say that we are a generation that likes to surf the net. I must confess, I am ever-so-slightly a computer nerd. I check my emails at least three times a day, and then all my other favourite sites. Firstly there’s the penultimate Google (don’t pretend like you’ve never Googled before a first date!) Then there’s emails, blogging sites, MyUni and the good ol’ facebook (a new social networking phenomenon that is sky-rocketing in popularity here, just like in America.)
But the Sydney Uni Casual Employment Service website is certainly one of my favourites that I check every couple of days. Here’s why……
People always ask me why I chose physiotherapy, and invariably my response is ‘I like sport and I like science so it seemed like a great way to combine the two and plus it’s easy to get a job at the end’. In the past four years I’ve learnt the exercise component and the science component. Now as I finish off my degree I need to start thinking about the job part!
Nuclear transfer (better known as therapeutic cloning) is one of those issues that the majority of people would automatically skip over unless you were a keen medical science student majoring in stem cells or the likes. We see the word ‘cloning’, freak out by the thought of recreating people like Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot etc and move on to the next blog.
And I would probably be the same had my dad not brought it up at the dinner table just about every night for the past fortnight (you see, my dad is one of those keen medical scientists!!)
Uni is not all fun, games and politics. There are sacrifices......and most of them revolve around money. Like attempting to pack your own lunches instead of buying from the cafeteria. Or walking from Central Station to campus instead of catching a 90 cent bus trip. Or downloading music for free off the net (hold on a second, I think people who work full time do this anyway!)
My biggest sacrifice throughout uni was my blessed Sundays, which all changed as of last week.
I’m guessing that whenever you meet a physio, you have this undeniable urge to tell them about your shoulder that has been dislocated 100 times, your painful lower back that develops a disc bulge every time you lean forward, or your knee pain that becomes excruciating when sitting and watching a 2 hour long movie.
(N.B this is simply an educated guess based on experience. No need to feel guilty if the above scenario describes you. Just don’t take it personally when the physio replies ‘that’s nice’ and changes topics!)
Funnily enough, no one ever has an urge to tell me about the phlegm that has been stuck in their chest that they just can’t cough up!! Yet for the past 5 weeks I have been doing just that – helping people cough up secretions.
Tuesday – my first day at St. Vincents hospital to kick start my third lot of 5 week physio prac stints for the year. The day started well – I managed to jump out of bed at 6am without having to snooze more than once to go for a lovely bike ride on the quiet beach roads and watch the sun rise. Feeling all invigorated, I made myself an omelet for breakfast, showered, and put on my semi respectable uniform ready to be at work for an 8:15am start.
Someone once told me that Tuesdays are a horrible way to spend one-seventh of your life, and but for the great TV viewing (I hope we're all on the same page here), I tend to agree.
Last Tuesday (or is it this Tuesday? In any case, I mean the Tuesday of two days ago) I went to the Careers Colussus, and though I didn't find a job, I did notice a few oddities about graduate employers that I thought I'd impart to you...
