More Work.

Today was less blah, but there's still a blah factor. I'm hoping that a good long work bashing sesh tomorrow will help put things to rights. Apparently it's not just me; a couple of folk on my language course are also bemoaning their joblessness. The bars in town go a bit quiet over summer, apparently; everyone's at the beach. If I don't get something soon I'm gonna end up trudging up and down the sand selling brewskis to the tourists. "CocacolaaAAA! AguaaAAA! FantaaAAA! CervezaaAAA!" Any work's better than no work.

Obviously I would prefer something writing-based, but I reckon that's a nonstarter. Still, maybe something voluntary in that field... we shall see, we shall see.

Trouble is... well, the trouble is that I don't know where to start. Unemployment here is pretty high, and most people seem find jobs through networking. Which is really, really bad news for me because as you may have gathered from the look and feel of this, my corner of the internet, little Mordant doesn't play well with the other kiddies. It's hard to schmooze when you despise everyone, especially people from the land which gave you birth. There's also the whole pervert mutant chaoette anarcho-someting-or-the-other issue; I somehow doubt I'm really going to fit in down the Let's All Sit Around And Complain Bitterly About How It Really Sucks To Voluntarily Leave Your Own Country For No Pressing Reason Other Than The Cheap Booze And Abundant Shiny Sunshine (Which Ironically Is One Of The Things We Bitch About) And Brag About How We've Been Here For 57 Years and We Still Only Know Three Words Of Spanish club.

I've looked into some of the expat women's organizations round here. They have coffee mornings.

And they play... bridge.