Soul-Sucking Demons

Mad Julie exorcises her right to a demon-free workplace

So what do you do if you are stuck working with soul-sucking demons?

Well let me tell you my little tale of what I have tried, tested, and scratched out… before finally happening upon a very sophisticated means of revenge…

1. Drink Lots!!!!

Problem – numbness only lasts for 3-6 months and there are sober periods… hmmm….

2. Eat lots of Chocolate and Comfort Food for Emotional Recovery!!!

Problem – ummm 5 plus kilos later… hmmm….

3. Shopping Therapy?

Problem – the pay cheque doesn’t last as long as it used to… and then can't afford as much booze… hmmm...

4. Exercise out the demon toxins

Problem – hard to outrun them when stuck in a meeting… hmmm…

5. Hide!!!

Problem – they HUNT you down and CALL you… Hmmm…

6. Look for a new team to join?

Problem – you find MORE soul-sucking demons and the old ones STILL HUNT you down!!! HORROR!!!!

7. Take Sickies?

Problem – they ARE STILL THERE when you return!!!

8. Take a positive approach and try to get to know them better?

Problem – you discover these demons come from the LOWER LEVELS of HELL… hmmm… what now?

And nope, am already spacing out the drinking, chocolate, shopping, sickies, hiding and occasional bits of other toxins… and I refuse to join the demon ranks!!!!

9. Have a life? Hmmm… but what type?

You interact more with the nicer demons and discover they had angelic mothers;

...you smile and laugh lots and the soul-sucking demons become uglier with their jealousy to all (you are now not alone);

...you now look like a catwalk queen with all the exercise and shopping, while they favour bag-lady-esque fashion (YEAH);

...and you are fairly popular going to all the latest shows, movies and bars around town…  the laughter is your ammunition… (UH HUH!!!)

...meanwhile… the soul-sucking demons are withering in their bitterness and becoming fat and dumpy with new wrinkles and white hairs appearing by the hour… AND they are LOSING their hold… slowly their suckers are dying… and so is their poison…

10. SOLUTION – REPEAT POINT 9 TIL THEIR ASHES HAVE BEEN CAST…

When a crab crawls out of its basket

From a very young age we are each cast into a mould. It shapes us as we shape it. We grow and evolve among like-minded people, or at least, among people who share a part of our mould. But as we grow, that mould solidifies. It shaped us and was shaped by us, but now it holds us in place. We are trapped: crabs in a basket.

Those who share our mould have an interest in its solidity – in their stability. And so each time we maintain our position in the mould, reach each moulded milestone, we are congratulated. Our stability props up theirs, reinforcing the mould and our shared part in it.

If our fellow crabs go to university, get jobs, settle into suburban bliss, maybe get married and pop out a sproglet or three, and we each do the same, we are bolstering the mould’s walls. We can feel safe, secure. By choosing the same path, we reinforce the decisions of others, who see themselves as like us, but also in relation to us.

But what happens if we deviate from the path? Maybe we don’t get married. Don’t have children. Don’t go to university. Our fellow crabs will feel uncomfortable, but in most cases, superior. They will pity us for not filling out the mould, not achieving, but they are not threatened by our perceived failure. We are safely tucked beneath them in the basket.

But if we decide to follow a different path, achieve different goals, it’s another story altogether.

The moment we start to escape, our fellow crabs panic and desperately try to claw us back inside. Like boiling water poured over them they flail and cry, and grab and scrabble. There is no congratulation, but no pity either. Instead we are criticised, reviled, ridiculed. If we climb up and over, we leave them behind to face the boiling water alone.

But it is not only our leaving that weakens the mould. It is also changing our position within the mould in relation to them. We may have grown up being the Quiet One, the Left-Out One, the Sporty One, the Nerdy One, the Fat One or the Thin One. Whatever our role, it is part of the mould, and a part of our group identity. Break away from that, try to get louder, get noticed, gain weight, lose weight, binge drink, have a sex change, however mild or extreme, and the crabs will again claw us back. Because when we shift they have nothing to hold them, shape them, and also nothing to shape.

In some ways this is more threatening to the mould than climbing up and over. It is abandoning the mould – rejecting it, and their part in it. We will cause the mould to buckle and shift, showing others that it is not immutable, but malleable: they might have chosen another path, too.

Pick me! Pick me!

Christine Priestly on writing the writerly CV

My professional CV has been in circulation in one iteration or another for well over a decade: a catalogue of passionless buzzwords. But when it comes to trying to break into the literary world, that lack of passion slaps me in the face.

I have spent years trying to sell my studies and writerly pursuits as relevant in the professional non-writing world. Now I need to do the exact opposite.

All that business-speak, reams of flow-charts and mission statements, all that jargon-riddled documentation, needs to somehow morph and be moulded into experience that is pertinent and relevant to the literary world.

I need to show why I should be picked above all the other budding 'industriests', that I am dedicated, conscientious, able to work to deadlines, enthusiastic, and that this enthusiasm will translate into producing f-off awesome work.

It’s harder than I thought.

I read over my newfangled CV. Everything turned topsy-turvy, Magic Faraway Tree-style. What will they make of my extra-curricular activities, the stuff that usually sits in the ‘yes, I do have a life outside of work’ category, suddenly thrust into the centrepiece? How can I make the transition from ‘hobby’ (read: die-hard passion) into ‘career’?

And then there are those ten prominent years of analysis and techie-speak, climbing the corporate ladder, which somehow seem like a waste of time, irrelevant, barely transferable. How can I make them fade into the background?

But I know they can't be faded, nor should they be. Those years haven't been wasted and those skills are transferable. If I've learned nothing else, I know I can pick up the ball and run with it when I need to.

So pick me, I say, let me learn and work from the bottom up, because everyone has to start somewhere.

-CP