Dole Diary,

I’m unemployed. I have been for a while now, and it’s not by choice. I am quite over being so poor and so bored. I blame my bad choice of degree and my inability to lie well during interviews. You may be lucky enough to have never had to live off the dole so I’ll explain the stats for you. After all my rent and bills are payed, I’m left with $417 a month for all my food, clothing, transport and toiletries, less than $15 a day. I remember even as a student I had a part time job and used to eat out most days for around that much because I was too lazy to cook. Now I have to think twice about getting a take away coffee on my way to the supermarket to stock up a 2 minute noodles.

I estimate that in the 5 months I’ve lived down here in Melbourne I’ve applied for over 100 jobs ranging from Environmental science (what I want to do but don’t even get an interview for because I have no experience) to bar/café work. Sometimes I get really motivated, “This is it, this week I’m going to get a job, I don’t care what it is”, and I spend hours on Seek sending my resume everywhere. One of these blitzes resulted in 5 interviews being scheduled within a week, which resulted in one call back for a trial shift, which still resulted in no job. Maybe they thought with two university degrees I wasn’t going stick around in hospitality any longer than I had to and gave the job to someone who was able to fake a life long commitment to the industry. Or maybe it’s just me. I start to wonder what’s wrong with me but can’t bear the embarrassment of actually asking any of these failed employers what made them choose someone else over me. Instead I get angry at the world for not giving me a chance in life and spend the next few days in bed.

By this stage I’ve given up calling all my friends. Last time I tried to seek comfort in them I ended up blowing a whole week’s budget on booze and woke up the next day feeling even worse. Another day’s budget was wasted on Berocca and pain killers. Who wants to hang out with someone who’s so down all the time anyway? Thank god for the internet. My only pleasures these days come in the form of illegal torrents downloaded to my bedroom. But even then it takes several hours of download time for only one episode of Scrubs. And the new ones aren’t even that funny.

On a few occasions I’ve got some cash in hand work. Thinking it to be regular I’ve treated myself to a pizza, a new book or a night out with my friends. Then when it all falls through I’m right back where I started from. So I’m giving up. Giving up Melbourne with all the fun it has to offer that I could never afford. I’m going back to Canberra and the security net of my sister’s house where I’m hoping she’ll let me live rent free for a while. Maybe there I can get a job in the public service, with a computer of my own, on a desk, in a cubicle inside a big open plan office. And I’ll sit there for 38 hours a week, 48 weeks a year with my flex time and regular income, and maybe then I’ll be happy.