Cinema paradise

As usual, I don’t understand what is driving people to behave unhuman in cinemas. It’s all about how they were raised. Everything goes around it. Eh. What kind of behaviors am I talking? Oh please, we all know them too well.

The way how somebody sits on the chair. Boi. I get that you want to be comfortable but do I have to smell your shoes which you put right next to my head?

The way how somebody is making noise by eating stuff that shouldn’t even be there in the first place or by simply bloody talking. Do I have to hear what you have to say during the movie?

The way how somebody is checking the phone during the seance. Especially in front of you. Do I have to see your phone when Iron Man is fighting with the evil?

The way how somebody leaves all of the trash on the seat. Trash bins are always next to the door when you’re leaving. Why is it so hard to just take it with you? Mama didn’t teach you, right.

Just behave.

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Karriere Portal

Es nervt mich immer, was zu der Suche nach einem guten Job dazugehört. Jede interessante Firma hat ihr eigenes Karriere Portal, wo man sich anmelden muss. Ich kann mir vorstellen, dass es viele Kandidaten abschreckt. Momentan habe ich ganz vielen Kontos irgendwo und ich erinnere mich einfach nicht mehr wo wer oder was wofür ist.

Ich verstehe nicht, warum es normalerweise eine Möglichkeit gibt, deinen Lebenslauf zu hochladen und dann musst du deine Informationen wie zum Beispiel Berufserfahrung oder Ausbildung trotzdem eintragen. Es kostet alles viel Zeit und ich schaffe manchmal nur zwei Portal-Daten-Spiele pro Tag. Die Verärgerung nimmt mir allen Spaß.

Ich verstehe nicht, warum man manchmal nur zwei zusätzliche Dokumente hochladen kann. Natürlich gehört dazu ein Lebenslauf und ein Anschreiben. Aber ich habe meistens fünf Dokumente. Damit sind automatisch meine Chancen niedriger.

Ich verstehe nicht, warum diese Karriere Portale oft nicht perfekt sind. Alles läuft langsam: wann man “zurück” klickt, werden alle Daten wieder entfernt oder wenn man einen Lebenslauf hoch lädt, werden alle Daten “automatisch” ausgefüllt und schließlich ist alles einfach durcheinander. Dann braucht man wieder viel Zeit.

Ich verstehe nicht, warum man manchmal zusätzlich ein Profil erstellen muss. Es hilft angeblich mit dem Bewerbungsprozess. Hilft es? 15-20 Minuten alle Data auszufüllen, ein Psychologie-Test und dann noch einmal eine andere Plattform nur für die Stellenanzeige. Ein Scherz.

Ich habe keine Worte.

The offices

I’ve been dealing a lot with government facilities lately. I worked for them too. It was and always is such a pleasure. So many people, so many characters, so many interpretation and…not so much space to fit it all.

The young lady in finances department. She didn’t know what to do with my issue. Neither did 6 posters of hamsters on the wall behind her. No joke. 6 hamsters! How powerful.

A phone is ringing a bit too long at the reception. Lady is pretending to do something super important on the computer in order to not pick it up. Who cares, right? I leaned on to check: she was sorting her personal pictures from vacation. Wow. Priorities.

Mid-age dude as for volunteering manager. On bare feet when it’s snowing outside, really? Don’t they pay people enough to afford some shoes? He was a bit messy too but who am I to judge. Such an alfa.

An old lady in managing department. No place to sit. Literally, everything was on everything. You are representing your country with this! Is it such a problem to organize the closet? It is! Why? Less space for the food and other irrelevant crap.

Another managing department. Everyone stars to work at 7 am. Officially. There is 7.46 and they are still drinking coffee, complaining, wasting time and being cool with it. It wasn’t that cool when another task came down and a huge drama following it because of course there is absolutely no time to do it.

Health insurance. Service done smoothly like: “who told you to come to me?”, “why are you here? you need to go somewhere else”, “don’t know who lost your paper”, “there is nothing in the system, I can’t help you”. Aha.

You are always so welcome and they are always doing everything fast and right. Every time.

 

Spring beauty

Don’t we all agree that spring is the most charming time of the year? Everything is changing outside, like literally. The birds don’t stop singing and the flowers don’t stop blooming. Circle of life. This specific type of fresh air will give you some sense of hope, motivation and energy to do more and be more. Everything seems to be more bearable. Are you one those people who feel this way? Good for you.

There is nothing more annoying than a sudden weather movement from 2°C and winter clothes to 18°C and bam. You’re sweating like a little piggy because you have no clue how to properly choose clothes. “It’s impossible to be this hot outside”. Nope. It actually is hot outside. And yesterday wasn’t.

Have I mentioned mood switching? You are feeling this empowering and inspirational batch of air few times a day. Almost everything becomes more colorful and so does your reality and dreams. For a moment you are positive thinking guru. Relatable? Of course. Too bad you can’t maintain it for the whole year. Your mind needs to bloom whatever your yard is or isn’t.

It’s also such a delightful time for allergic folks. The struggle is real and painful. You are flying on tissues, you haven’t slept for days and everything gets only more and more intense. It’s questionable what is really driving you forward but hey, spring is around, so you better be happy. Otherwise, the general picture is broken.

In the end, everything is mixing and you are just transforming into overwhelmingly mind blooming piggy drifting on the stunning meadow with tissues sucking the life out of you. Smile you rainbow throwing zombie, smile!

Small talks

This is daily mush up of mine. Dealing with people and then overthinking it. That’s how I cope. Much fun.

Sometimes we are all small talking, especially with somebody we barely know or don’t know at all. It can happen anywhere, most likely in our workplaces. We are doing it because we want to be nice, funny or sometimes just to fill the silence. Is it always so necessary?

I came to realize that nothing good comes out of the small talks. I see how people are struggling to be awesome and in the end, they are just pretending to be somebody else. Someone ultra funny with the best stories or someone faking to care at all. Why is it hard sometimes and why silence scare people so much? Since when you are suddenly weird by not commenting random and mostly unrelevant stuff? As usual, I’m asking questions I can’t possibly answer.

For me it’s simple: when I don’t want to talk I don’t talk but when I do, you can be more than assured that you have my full attention and care. I’m more than fine with silence – observing others is funnier. This weird pursuit of everyone’s sympathy by being “vocally active” makes me feel quite confused. I don’t understand it. You can’t make people like you or see you more. Besides that, isn’t it way more interesting to talk about something that really matters?

I don’t have enough of energy (or rather patience) to enjoy small talking and I’ll be damned if I’m the only one thinking this way.

Non-roomies

I think we all have at least one funny story to tell about our former or actual roommate. As I remember correctly I got to move 7 times meeting approximately 15 new people. I lived in the dormitory twice but that’s a whole other experience. Anyway, here are some facts I had the joy to witness.

  1. Appreciation is tabu.

No matter how long or hard I’ve tried to clean our common spaces like kitchen or bathroom – magic happened! Half an hour and the place was dirty again. Usually, when I confronted them, all I’ve been hearing was some lousy excuses or even accusations. The truth is when somebody is ok with the dirtiness and tons of dust, there is nothing you can possibly do to change it. Bad luck. At some point, I simply gave up and I was cleaning only after myself.

  1. Untidiness gets a new meaning.

Towels on shoes? Big piles of unfresh clothes at every possible angle? Bunch of trash on the floor? Another bunch of dirty dishes with unfinished, old and stinky food? Garbage bag full of old stuff that nobody “was able” to take out? The sink full of used dishes that are yours and nobody cleaned them after using? Kitchen dirty to this point that you don’t have space or tools to cook? Boi oh boi just imagine the general smell.

  1. Redefining bravery is on the daily basic.

I had a bunch of difficult and humiliating conversations about the fact that somebody was leaving brown marks in the toilet or piss was all over the place. Seriously? Mama didn’t teach you how to properly handle your business? Or how to clean the sink after you put 30 kg of make-up on you and now it’s everywhere? Or those hairs that you leaving in the bathtub? It’s disgusting. It’s also not easy to talk about it. Again, if people don’t know very basic stuff like this, there is absolutely nothing you can do. I’ve learned it the hard way.

  1. Other lives coexist with you.

I remember until this day the size of spider that came out of the closet. Holy cow. It was as big as my fist. When I was living in Italy I came upon a dead scorpion. Oh yes! Because of the moist, a lot of stuff was also covered with mold within a night. Enjoying living on 12 floor? Just acknowledge the cockroaches and other tiny things that like to travel on the pipes. My roommate denied their existence and they spread even more. Believe me, there is nothing more horrible than a battle with cockroaches.

  1. Noise tolerance has a new scale.

Eh, that’s a tricky one. There is nothing wrong with listening to music as long as you’re not doing it at 5 am. Same goes for inviting people over in the middle of the night. Really? Also, you don’t have to do the dishes at 6 am when everyone is still asleep. Showing off should be dedicated to other things.

The rule is easy: clean after yourself and don’t bother others while doing it.

Szczury, lisiory i inne stwory

Nawet nie wiem od czego zacząć. Są takie sytuacje, że obserwuję i nie wiem co mam myśleć. Są to również jedne z tych chwil, w których pierwsze co przychodzi do głowy jest nasze piękne polskie słownictwo, bardzo adekwatne do okoliczności. Och, możliwości uzewnętrznienia się są wręcz wyborne.

Stoję w kolejce po kurczaka i 6 plasterków salami. Przychodzi moja kolej a tu znienacka starsza Pani, wpycha się bezczelnie jakby nic ją nie obowiązywało. Miałam dobry humor, odpuściłam. W głowie tylko “eh, typowy syndrom paweła”. Dumny paw, ma wszystko w… piórach. Jak ja uwielbiam je czasem wyrywać!

Jestem w pracy. Wyrabiam normy, robię swoje, czasem się nawet udzielam. Czego nie lubię? Podlizywania się, nachalności, egoizmu i braku jakiejkolwiek logiki. Byle szybko, byle ja. Ja! Ja jestem najlepszy. Brzmi znajomo? Witam cię szczurobiurwie.

Wchodzę do pociągu Intercity. Każdy ma obowiązek wykupienia miejsca. Wiara wpycha się do wagonu, jakby rozdawali nagrody, że kto pierwszy. W efekcie korytarze są pozapychane i każdy irytuje się, że co tak długo. Czyż nie cebule?

Idę do pączkarni. Jest 5 ostatnich sztuk mojego ulubionego nadzienia. Zastanawiając się, weszła babeczka, prawie biegiem i krzykiem oznajmia przede mną, że chce całe 5 pączków. Kpina. Co za lisiorstwo. A bądź sobie nawet i grubym liskiem. Zachłanność nigdy nie popłaca.

Zmierzam ku bibliotece. Mam ochotę poczytać coś z science-fiction. Pytam się Pani bibliotekarki co fajnego poleca, po czym otrzymuję odpowiedź: “dział science-fiction jest po prawo”. Aha. Ktoś tu chyba jest za karę, Pani uszczypliwa szczypiornico.

Czekam za Panem lekarzem. Jako, że wysłano mnie z medycyny pracy, mam pierwszeństwo. Jest to także napisane na drzwiach do gabinetu. To jest moi drodzy środowisko piejących szczekaczy. Jak to jest możliwe, że ja jestem pierwsza jak to on ma numer jeden w kolejce? Tak to, a teraz cicho.

Dzwonię, aby zapytać o sprawę, która nie jest klarownie wyjaśniona w internecie. Po 10 godzinach oczekiwania oraz 4 przekierowaniach dostaję odpowiedź “proszę sprawdzić na stronie”. Opowiadam o co chodzi: “to niemożliwe”. Pytam: “więc co jest możliwe?” Odpowiedzi nie uzyskałam. Eh, te kameleony. Głośne to, a ile jeszcze w dodatku udaje, że się na czymś zna.

Jestem świadkiem kłótni relacji matka – 5-10letnie dziecko. Jak to dziecko, chciało batonika. Mama nie pozwoliła. Krzyków nie było końca. W końcu mama nie wytrzymała, żyłka pękła i tym piekielnym głosem: “ty materialistko jedna! nic ci nie kupię, rozumiesz?”. Czy trzeba aż tak po diabelsku? Buractwem się spraw nie załatwia. Tym bardziej z dziećmi.

Nosz kurka wodna, ileż tego jest.