(My mum has never watched [British morning programme], she actively avoids [British morning programme]. She cannot stand [British morning programme]. A certain couple does an interview with a certain American host that’s very well know, one of the hosts for [British morning programme] makes very unprofessional comments about what one of the couple has said, walks out and then fires/is quit. It’s the morning after and I come in from my morning shift to find my mum watching TV – not unusual. I then notice what the show is)

Me: “Is that [British morning programme]?!” (mum doesn’t answer) “Mum, are you watching [British morning programme]?” (pause) “Literally the morning after [the host] is booted – did your hate entirely spawn from how you felt about [the host]? Have you turned your back on [other morning programme which is just good feels stuff rather than anything serious]?”

Mum: “Of course not! I’m going to turn over. I just want to know what poor sap has been given the unfortunate job of replacing him”

(I’m a veterinary nurse. I answer the phone at work:)
Me: “Good morning, this is [Veterinary Clinic], how can I help?”
Client: *immediately rude* “Do you do progesterone blood tests for dogs?” (A progesterone blood test indicates whether a dog is ovulating in order for breeders to mate them with a greater chance of success of impregnation. We do not run these in house at my clinic.)
Me: “Yes we can arrange that for you. We don’t actually run these in house, we use an external lab, but we can take your dog’s blood and get it all sorted and sent off for-”
Client: *interrupts me* “Just gimme the name of the lab then and I’ll go straight there.”
Me: *a little taken aback* “Well we need to take the blood for you sir and send it off-“
Client: *interrupting me again* “So you won’t tell me?”
Me: *beginning to lose my patience* “Well I can tell you the name of the lab we use is [laboratory name that would be difficult to spell if you had never seen it written down]-“
Client: *interrupting me AGAIN* “You’re no help, I’ll do it myself.” *hangs up on me*
(If this client had given me a chance to speak, I would have explained that the only two locations of this lab are in the US and the Netherlands, and that even if he did travel to either of those locations – definitely not possible or practical during this pandemic and due to the nature of this test – they would turn him away, since they are a laboratory only and don’t take samples on site.)

A colleague told me this story.

Part of the graduate recruitment process was a day spent in the offices, with interviews, tests, evaluations etc. My colleague caught the underground with his mum, who said goodbye to him as she got off to go to her job, and he travelled a few stops further. When he arrived, they took away everyone’s mobile phones for the day, so they could remain focussed on the meetings.

Mid morning, someone told the candidates that if anyone needed their phones to call their families, they could have them. No one did, because why would they want to?

So it was only at the end of the day that my colleague got his phone back and found dozens of missed calls and increasingly desperate voicemails. It was July 7, 2005 the day of the London bombings. The office was less than a mile from one of the underground bombs, and indeed my colleague thinks the train he disembarked from was the one that exploded just outside that same station a few minutes before nine.

The management somehow forgot they had not told the graduates about the tragedy and they had no other way of finding out.

After losing a job, I went through my all-time low, which resulted in 1,5 year of being unemployed, during which I had to live from savings and wellfare. Naturally, I try to find new options. One of them is going freelance. To get there, I also have some talks with another freelancer I know, since there is always the option of “hiring each other”. Since the market in which he operates is slow, not that much comes from it.

Finally I get to some actual jobs where I am not hired as a freelancer, but officially employed by contract. It is tough and not always too good for my morale, but in the end, I manage to get a temp job at a corporation which seems to fit a little more to what I am capable of. Yet it takes 40 hours a week, so I do get quite tired from it. It’s the first 40 hour job of my life, so I really need to get used to it.

When summer arrives, I take a week of for holiday during which I go into my hobby of historical reenactment. At the end of that week, the freelance friend contacts me about doing an event in a nearby town. His timing couldn’t have been worse. Although the week has been terrific, I am exhausted from it. I really want my final day to be at home for some rest and for taking care of my chronically fatigued girlfriend. So, thanks, but no, thanks.

A few months later, he tries again. This time, it is for a thursday afternoon, which would require me to leave the temp job early. I contemplate, and decline.

This results and in email in which he berates me, telling me “I need to show up for jobs which don’t fit too well in the agenda”, because otherwise my freelance work will never come to fruition. I politely explain that the choice is very simple for me, since the temp job gives me steady hours and income. Freelancing would not only take that away, but also require me to do all the acquisition and paperwork myself, which I am actually not very good at.

He responds a little more understanding. He hasn’t asked me for anything since, which is fine I guess. What I do not get from his stance is that his advice always came down to: ‘Take every opportunity you get!’ but that he doesn’t seem to understand that this is exactly what I’m doing at the temp job. A temp job which landed me a permanent contract in the end.

Taking every opportunity sounds wise, but sometimes, the choices are not compatable with each other. Or with your own health or comfort. Take your chances, but don’t forget to take care of your own limits. Don’t be a lazy winer, but don’t run yourself into the ground either.

I meet up with a group from a place where I used to work. Some of them are friends, some of them just ex-coworkers, some are totally new acquaintances. Of the latter category, there is a guy I met before.

Guy: ‘Hey, you wanna hear how it all ended?’

Me: ‘Erm… How what ended?’

Guy: ‘Back in the pub, on [holiday]. Remember?’

Me: ‘I remember we met there, but you seem to mean something I forgot.’

Guy: ‘Oh, you know, when I got into trouble with those two Turks.’

Me: ‘What? I don’t remember that.’

Guy: ‘Yeah, yeah, you were there. And you went to talk to some bloke behind the bar whom you knew. Remember?’

Me: ‘Ehm… No, I’m sure I didn’t.’

Guy: ‘Yes, you did! You went to talk to him and then it calmed down a bit and you advised me to leave before things would escalate for real.’

Me: ‘I’m pretty sure I would remember all of this.’

Guy: ‘But it really happened!’

Me: ‘Yes, but I didn’t do any of these things. I barely know anyone who works there and the whole story doesn’t sound like me at all.’

Guy: ‘No, it really happened!’

Me: ‘Yes, but not with me! You have me confused with somebody else.’

Guy: ‘No, I’m quite sure it was you!’

Me: ‘Well, you’re wrong. Sorry.’

I have been mixed-up with others before in my life. But this was definitely the weirdest example.