It's not like I don't want a summer job.

First... I was drooling to the link niko gave me in the last post. Too bad that I'll probably get arrested or something if I'm caught doodling with sidewalk chalks in Hong Kong.

I've been trying to check out some job vacancies on the internet. Some sort of government website. So you guys think the website must be damn efficient and nice, eh? Afterall it's Hong Kong, with all those little Asian geeks on computers and other stuff, having all these ultrasupermegaadvanced technology. Bleh, I was wrong, and so are you all who think so. One damn website for job vacancies (posted through something called the Labour Dept.) in the whole Hong Kong. Yes, yes, Hong Kong isn't exactly big, but think. Even 1% of the 7 million of us go to the website at the same time, the server(s) has/ve to be down- I experienced that myself. It's not even possible to search for jobs. And of course there aren't really any local district thingies for such things, to narrow my search down. So I guess I really am not going to get a fucking job.

The jobs on that website (actually in the whole Hong Kong) are hideous. Working from 0900 to 1730,1800 or even 1900, 5 'and a half' days per week (i.e. they want you to work even if it's a Saturday morning and thus ruin your whole Saturday)- and guess what? The salary per month is hardly over €500. Of course I tried to look around and see if there are places in theatres I can work in. Of course not. All they want are bigshots, connections to bigshots or lame celebrities. Those which don't require those are usually lame 'drama' groups, kinda just as a hobby or something, putting up lame shows... That pretty much also ruled out the possibility of me coming back to Hong Kong after graduating from university- unless I suddenly feel like being some sort of a saint.

Now I start to understand how some people work as prostitutes voluntarily.

P.S. I just realized how perceptive and easily affected my brain is. I can't write sensible blog entries, can't write plays, can't think, can't even read materials which are more sophisticated ('An Actor Prepares' is taking me forever suddenly)... oh I feel like I have a full skull of grey, sticky, melted brain-goo. Not to mention, I've been dry for 4 or 5 days, which is quite a huge torture. Maybe I should get some when I go out next time. Y'know, can't just go out for 5 minutes and come back with a big glass bottle in my pants. That doesn't make sense at all.

Well, of course it does to me, but sadly not to my parents.