Being an uWammba, suffering from Relentless Self-Promotion Fatigue and a Floater

I am an uWammba. That is the isiZulu word for an unemployed white middle-aged man with a BA degree. For a variety of reasons these are not much sought-after qualities in the South African job market. Until last month I was a mere Wammba, I gained the honorific prefix 'u' after a rather nasty disagreement with my boss.

At that point I was a rather glum individual. My prospects seemed to dwindle faster than you can say increased overdraft. The media market in South Africa, where my Wammba skills were still in some demand, is also on a bit of a slippery slope - indeed as it is worldwide - and jobs are hard to come by.

In a typical South African response to the crisis I went to my favourite restaurant and started to drink and speak to random strangers about my dilemma. I was truly a lost soul which is a difficult position for an atheist to find himself in.

Among the strangers I spoke to, were two journalists from Belgium. The woman, it had to be the woman, saw my pain and after listening to my wide and truly comprehending analysis of South Africa, she commissioned two stories from me for the princely sum of 600 Euro.

She also convinced me of the need for more insightful stories about South Africa in Europe and the world at large. Something a bit different than the normal gloom and doom that is the staple of international news coverage of the place.

That is when my career as relentless self-promoter started. I made it my mission to promote me and my skills, presumed talents and whatever to a new person every single day. I started accepting random strangers as my friends on Facebook, indeed inviting them to direct more people to my blog. I accost anyone I see in my favourite restaurant who looks vaguely foreign or media related and ask them to help me find contacts overseas so that I could write for them.

That was about three weeks ago and I went at the task at full throttle. Today I am suffering from Relentless Self-Promotion Fatigue Syndrome (RSPFS). I keep on promoting my blog on Facebook, but that is all I have energy for today.

The Laughing One suggested I write a blog and in fact it is the highlight of my day to do it.

Anyway today is sort of unseasonably cold and miserable and I had difficulty dragging myself out of bed as the RSPFS had me in its icy grip.

Then I had to get up to go to the crapper and that is where my problem with the floater started. The damn thing just would not go away. I eventually got rid of it on the seventh flush and that is when I realised again one must hang in there until the right wave comes along for you.

So here I am back to relentless self-promotion.

Tomorrow I am flying to Port Elizabeth ... I bought the ticket when I was still a mere Wammba. The Laughing One, the Fridge Guy, the Writer, the Laughing One's Chick and me spent a memorable holiday in Oyster Bay in the Eastern Cape over December and decided to do a bit more of the same over Easter.

I shall write from a coffee shop or bar in Port Elizabeth tomorrow while waiting for the Laughing One to come and pick me up to go to Oyster Bay where he has a house.