July 30, 2014 by lucieromarin
Following the theme of Building a New Life, I’ve mentioned a couple of times the Bright New Job which follows the Awful Job Which I Thought was Going to Be the Bright New Job.
Wah! Well, I was training to be a respeaker (the person who makes the captions for television; captions are made by speaking, rather than typing.) It requires 97.3% spoken accuracy and 97.5% after corrections. Now my probation is up, and my stats are full of…96.4.
So that’s that. In two weeks, I’ll be unemployed again! So, taking stock of my discoveries and/or conclusions, I find:
1) Being one percent not-good-enough for a job you really like is quite a different kind of dispiriting to being good at a job you don’t like. The latter is a bit soul-crushing, and makes you wonder if you are in some way compromising your integrity as a person. The former is more like staring through a window at a brightly lit living room full of Christmas presents and party games before turning away sadly to trudge home in the snow to your gruel. You do feel disappointed, but you don’t feel compromised.
2) I had no idea this little captioning universe existed until I happened upon the advertisement in March. Surely this means there other little universes somewhere…?
3) Friends are a blessing. I feel for people who are struggling to find work in countries or states they’ve only just moved to, with all the people they’d naturally turn to thousands of kilometres away. I know we have Skype and email and things – even so.
4) It would have been nice to have been able to write a This-is-How-You-Change- Your-Life – Easy! blog. But I suppose you can’t hope to help people Think Positive and Love God No Matter What if things are going swimmingly all the time…especially when you only have to turn on the news to see how much actual and horrible suffering other people endure. There’s something inconsistent about praying for other people to have the strength to endure persecution while simultaneously having a meltdown over rent!
(And since I did find myself crying every time I had to say, ‘A father holds his dead baby full stop’ and ‘Her father comma mother and brothers were blown up full stop,’ perhaps it’s for the best!).
Gah! One lousy percent!!