"It's tough out there"

I'm on a role this week mainly due to the ever lasting length this week seems to have and the fact that my life seems to be ever so slightly more irritating. This is NOT a dating thing, so anyone expecting a new tale of dating woe should lower their expectations now. Please keep reading though as I need to viewing numbers!
This is all about jobs. Yes I am currently looking for new employment, have been for a few months now. It's not because I've been sacked ....yet. It's not even because I hate my job, it's just sometimes......... I really fudging hate the students!
Before you judge me for my little venomous outburst let me explain.
It's not that I hate all students, having been one myself I can sympathise with the continuous battle between bank balance and tequila Friday. However we are entering a new age of students.
Now I very much get along with my 2nd and 3rd year students. They have a bit of common sense and have the good grace to laugh at my petty jokes. They even take it as a comic bonus when I write:
"Escorting is good" on the board and don't see it as an unprofessional summary of an intense journal describing the evolutionary behaviour of pup escorting in the banded mongoose. The lesson did however fall into anarchy when reviewing the next piece of literature by a Dr. Cant. When pronouncing his name one has to choose between the very proper 'ar' sound or skimming very close to a certain unholy word from which the latter part of Twunt was derived. When followed by an explanation of mongooses being in the bush I think I can be excused for giggling like a 12 year old boy looking at his first porn magazine. By the way GQ you're not fooling anyone you're still porn!
Now these type of students you enjoy teaching, they want to learn and have clocked onto how happy cheesecake makes you when marking exams.
This years influx of students however are the reason most over 25's want to cull all the under 25's. Ethnic cleansing is not wrong if no-one survives to complain. (Don't send me hate mail!).
When I was a student I was paying an extreme amount of money and had the good fortune of working a full-time job whilst in full-time education. However it was accepted that you respected your lecturers as they were providing you the skills and qualifications you needed to get a head start in your chosen career.
Now however students feel that because they are paying £6,000 a year they automatically get to dictate how their education is managed and complain like a 2 year old that lost it's sweets when they don't get their own way. Basically they act like TWUNTS (Is that word catching on yet?)
My favourite thing is that they always give the same excuse when behaving as such:
"I'm paying £6,000 for my education I should get what I want"
Let me draw your attention to that figure: £6,000. Our students actually pay less than that but I'll accept that figure for now. Most universities now demand between £9-12,000 a year. You think that getting a discounted education gives you the right to tell me how to do my job? You pay for a Findus education you'll fudging get a Findus education and all the horse shit that goes with it.
Now I could think about all the things I do love about lecturing but it all get's a bit grim when I realise I earn that same as the McDonald's grill attendant. I could watch a grill. Listen to the little buzzer to change over the chips. Hell I'd be the best fudging grill attendant they'd ever seen and I'd do it without adding my own brand of forehead grease to the chip fat. I'd get promoted in a day. In charge of all the sweaty pana-cotta faced minions and we would rule over all of man kind, slowly punishing them for their crimes against me by ensuring childhood obesity and leading them all to slow diabetic death. I'd even get paid a decent wage doing it.
That's right I'd get paid more herding the British public like cows into the image of America than I do lecturing the minds of tomorrow!
So I am sat here looking for a new job and wondering how far I'd need to shove my pen up my nose before it reached my brain. when my mothers voice comes swimming into my brain:
"It's tough out there". What      A      Bitch!
I know mother, I know it's tough out there, I've filled in 2000 applications and sold myself like a Princess Lea dressed prostitute at a Star Wars convention,. I've died a little bit with every rejection and am seriously considering asking for a refund on my Masters degree as it's done nothing for me so far and would easily buy the McDonald's uniform and extra Cillit Bang to remove the grease from my own body.
To cheer myself up I grabbed a bargain of a new dress and shoes for £20, not bad. Do I have an occasion to wear it? NOPE. Because as much as the job searching is tough, for me, the dating one is worse.



Epilogue:
I would like to point out that I love my mother. Also mother if you have read this I am sorry, I will stop swearing and I haven't put sugar on my Weetabix in weeks. Namely because I haven't been eating Weetabix but I still think it should count.