I was lying in bed, thinking those internal thoughts you think when doing mundane things like riding your bike to work, showering or falling asleep. i was vainly thinking about my teeth and my skin, the fact that i have broken teeth and fillings, and laughter lines around my eyes despite the fact i wear no make up and don't tan myself. suddenly, in popped a small voice
''ehem..'' he coughed, and waited.
''hello?'' i asked, wondering what piece of wisdom or disdain 'the voice' had to offer tonight.
''stop thinking like that'' he demanded.
''like what? this is normal, no?'' i defended myself.
''let me ask you, were you more attractive a year ago than you are now?''
''i was younger and peachier, so in a way..yes'' i decided, thinking that i didn't so much like this fact.
''and the year before that and the year before that, were you more attractive than a year ago?'' i could hear a smart arsed undertone and was becoming increasingly defensive.
''So stop thinking about how good looking you used to be because this is as good as its going to get - if in your opion you were always better looking than you are now, that will also be the case in 6 months..today day you are more attractive than you will be then''
''.......ehh....'' i was silenced.
And i can count on one hand how many ugly/fat days i've had sinse then.
Good point Little Voice, good point.
Monday, 4 November 2013
What on earth??
Where have i been??!!
Last post - July 2010...3 years ago!! In the September of that year i got a job, one that drained my soul until the following July when i got a new job that would also drain my soul but in a different manner - a manner that i didn't notice for a few months and by that time it was October and i was having a nervous breakdown, screaming down the phone to anyone who would listen..
''HOW DO PEOPLE DO THIS??!!!''
i was promised full time hours, but the reality worked out to be more like 18-25 hours a week... which when you break it down is 100 hours a month...
X minimum wage =
all work and no play!
The 18-25 hours would be something like a few shifts from 11- 4 and 8.30-5.30 on a saturday - 10- 3 on a sunday, wiping out the best parts of my days and weekends...
So i got FED UP and moved.
In that nervous break down of an October i put an advert up on an au-pair website just to SEE what was on offer and what people we're looking for.
apparently people are looking for anything without a brain because within 24 hours i had had 5 offers of jobs WITHOUT interviews - didn't like the sound of that -
''yeah, so we're looking for someone to start next month...oh no, we dont need an interview..yeah we have 5 children..you get one day off a month and we pay you £100 for this because we don't charge you to live in our house''
RIGHT. Thank you but...*zooom!*
But then a little family in Geneva, Switzeraland got in touch -
LETS GO methinks..
So i went and it was cold and it was expensive. And i was STILL MISERABLE - can you imagine? I met some amazing people, went snowboarding and ate a LOT of chocolate and spoke french - so all was not terrible! But i was not ''happy''
I returned home in the june and started work at a restaurant in my home town - 80 hours a week - i was RAKING it in but i wasn't miserable because i didn't have TIME to be miserable but this also meant i had no time to spend my hard earned money because i was always at work or asleep, i got promoted to manager-ey status, where i then had to also come in on one of my two days off without being paid - yay!
I wasn't miserable.
I was lost and a little void of emotion.
Then one night...
One late Friday night..
There was a table of two older gentlemen.
I was tired.
They were drunk.
I was tired.
I take the card machine over for them to pay and one of the gentleman asks why i think he should pay a service charge..
(Now bare in mind at this point, that the bill doesn't even include a service charge)
I smile and tell him that i don't need a service charge, that's fine, he's welcome to just pay the bill, but he insists he just would like some justification for having to pay a service charge should there be one -
''well sir, this evening when you came in i greeted you with a smile, showed you to a lovely table, bought you some menus and water, took a drinks order, bought you your drinks, took a food order, bought you your food, checked to make sure you we're enjoying everything
and then cleared your plates, offered you dessert and coffee, had polite conversation with you and now i've bought you your bill like you asked and then bought the card machine so you can pay - i have provided the service of you not having to do a single thing but make decisions -
at this point im trying not to cry from being overtired and trying not to get angry
- you're 'tip' or service charge payment makes my bad waitress pay a little more bearable - but at this point i have been in this restaurant for around 60 hours this week already and right now i would like to go home and sleep before i have to be here at 8a.m tomorrow making croissants and coffee for breakfast eaters who will not tip''
His friend is silent..watching this exchange -
The offensive customer says to me
''well, your obviously not a waitress because you're too dramatic - whats your real profession?''
I tell them i am a seamstress - i make corsets - except for a company opened in this town around 2 years ago selling 3 corsets for £100 where mine cost £150 for one. And now im a waitress.
I am silently, mentally begging for them to PAY AND LEAVE.
but then the friend speaks...
''i work for that company....''
He asks me to sit down for a chat - at this point there has been so much piss taking and back chatting i feel like he is joking and i will sit for him only to pull a rug from under my feet.
But i sit and there is no rug pulling, there isn't even a rug...only intrirgue...
He asks for my phone number, and then gives me his and tells me he knows i'll be tired but please please call him as soon as i wake up.
So the next morning as i'm walking the dog in the dewy misty long grass feeling a little hesitant and wondering just how drunk he was last night - i make the call.
He asks me to an interview that day - I'm working - I can't..
Do i get a break?
well..yes, but im not sure when..
He tells me to organise my break and go for an interview.
fast forward 10 hours..i have been interviewed, i have been given a job, a full time, 9-5, 5/7 job.
I'm running around my restaurant squealing with joy, infecting the customers with this jubilation of mine. I don't start until January 5th but i don't care - what a thing to look forward to!
And that was this year - January 2013.
It is now November.
I'm not happy like before, i still retain some of that emotionless numb -
but i'm on my way.
I'm still finding little things to find some joy in - like a miniature red enamel teapot i bought a few weeks ago that i will post pictures of soon..
or the lockable microscope box (minus the microscope) i found in a charity shop.
I gotta come back to the blog.
That's all for now.