Articles in Working Girl
Summer In The City
Summer usually brings the worse students, along with those to busy to take classes the rest of the year and whose only chance is to come to school when the Parliament isn’t in session. I don’t mind those ones. They’re usually focused on their studies because they’re desperate to pass their French test, which will entitle them to a promotion or a pay rise. But the weirdos…
Morning Glory
Oh crap. It’s 8:50 and my brain is still sleeping. I ought to wake up.
I extricate myself from the car, a task harder than usual considering I’m holding a can of Diet Coke and my handbag, slung across my shoulder, is bursting with colored folders, papers, photocopies and pens.
I step on the sidewalk and slam the car’s passenger door. I stand there and root around my handbag and pull out a lighter. Woohoo, first victory of the day, not a small one considering the mess in my bag.
The Interviews From Hell
How many interviews have I been to ? I’d say about thirty in Canada so far, ¾ of them in my first year in Ottawa. I was desperate for a job but the odds seemed to be against me. At 20 years old, my resume was pretty short. I had no previous work experience in Canada. I had no references but abroad. My English wasn’t that great and I wasn’t a Permanent Resident yet.
Dirty Little Secrets
However, I soon discovered that workplaces bore some resemblance with the world I was used to. Contrary to my naive opinion, people don’t automatically become smarter and well-behaved nor that they turn into hard-working knowledgeable professionals once they get a job. Quite the opposite actually. I also discovered that every job had its dirty little secrets that only insiders know. And sometimes, I was one of them.
Overtime Work And The Overreactive Alarm
I’ve never been a morning person. Even though my high school days memories are slowly starting to fade, I still remember my last year. We had to attend classes Monday through Saturday starting at 8:00 am, and everyday was a struggle to get up.
The Teacher And The Test Dilemna
My students are office workers. I’m not — and their field of work and the arcane of the ubiquitous bureaucracy can be bewildering for a rookie like me. Like when I was filing up for another teacher last week for a Canada Revenue Agency class. So I came into the class, introduced myself and asked the students to do the same, one by one.
It's Been a Hard Day's Night
I’m a young office worker. The world is mine. As soon as I’ll finish my cigarette, I’ll go deal with the commissioner, a weekly task to which I excel. That’s life when you go teach at the government.
- Hi/ bonjour, what’s your name ?
Great. A spelling bee contest at 8:55. I must say that I love my name, but really, does it have to have 4 “i” and several consonants people never know in which order to arrange ?
Us And Them
Office workers have always fascinated me. I used to see them in public transportation, early in the morning : guys drinking their daily shot of black java in some kind of fancy spill proof cup; women awkwardly applying another layer of make-up on their face. They looked busy. They looked like they had a goal and shared a common culture of which other were excluded.






















