Another Life-Enhancing Hint of the Day June 29, 2007
Posted by Jen in : Bits and Pieces , 15 commentsAlert the media! I have made a *sensational discovery: If you keep your perfume in your little bag of *blush* ladies’ accoutrements it will probably leak.
If a quarter bottle of Eau Dynamisante oozes quietly into your emergency Tampax, it is likely to set your loins alight in a most eye-watering way.
* I resisted using the word ’scent-sational’. It wasn’t easy, as you can imagine.
(I’m sure I remember a time when this blog was about writing?)
Yet More Working Woes June 27, 2007
Posted by Jen in : Journal , 9 commentsEeeeek. Following the previously documented tortures of the Retail Hell Development Day, I am, this very morning, to lead my own ‘team training session’. Ooh, ‘eck. I was only informed of this lofty trip to power last night so I have no idea what to rabbit on about for half an hour. My captivated audience for this will consist of Pretty Hana (the Bouncing Czech), the muttering Hinge and Brackett combo, Scary Sergeant Sally and Teeny Tiny Holly who is approximately 12.
I could adopt a smiley, patronising, mental mode, i.e. telling people that they are all ’stars’ which is guaranteed to make them think I’m ace. Yes, I shall practice saying ‘You’re a star’ in a breathless yet sincere manner as I drive to work. Must remember to touch their arm and lurch into their personal space while repeating said star sentiment. I could ‘whoop’ a bit and clap my hands too. That always goes down a treat.
Or.
I could let them moan and groan for half an hour before telling them that it’s good to hear their views but the session’s up and they’d better get on with it if they expect a tea break.
Or.
I could make them do star jumps. That’s the most appealing so far.
At least they’ll be more puffed out than pissed off. I will write something on a piece of paper and pretend it was my ‘objective‘ like I have been ‘trained’ to do.
After these thirty minutes of mega-misery, I will console myself that have earned three Great British pounds for my troubles and rejoice in the knowledge that I have been ‘developed’.
*****
From the Ridiculous to the Sublime June 23, 2007
Posted by Jen in : Journal , 9 commentsWow and Woo Hoo! And Crikey! What a good start to the day. Well, when I say ‘good’, I’m also thinking ‘crap’. Let’s see…
I discovered at 6.30 this morning that I have been shortlisted for Post of the Week for this. Thank you, lovely Dandelion, for nominating me. I mean, y’know, it’s all nonsense and I don’t really care about such stuff but YAY! HURRAH! I am officially not entirely crap… Oh, yes… crap…
To rejoice in resplendent Saturday morning style, I went to put the kettle on. Bleeeurghhh. I shall spare you the details but let’s just say that the dog had disgraced himself all over the kitchen floor. Excellent.
You can guess who was nominated to clean that lot up. Ah, yes, there’s nothing like heaving into a Spar bag with your Marigolds covered in doggy doo to start the weekend off cheerily.
My grown-up part of the day consists of playing a yummy Telemann flute concerto and some equally ace Handel in a tiny, beautiful village church in Wittersham. I hope the sun doesn’t come out. I have a major problem with the sun shining through stained glass windows when combined with music.
It just always makes me cry. Always. And you know what?
When you’re all teary, snivelling and snotty, it’s almost impossible to blow. By 3pm, I plan to be clutching a very big glass of red falling-over water. My day of music-making and shit-shovelling will be done.
When I grow up… June 19, 2007
Posted by Jen in : Journal , 21 commentsKW asked yesterday: What would you actually like to do, if you could, as a day-job (ignoring any writerly inclinations)?
I felt a bit miserable for the rest of the day. I don’t know. What do I want to do? Let’s see… so far, I have been:
- A dental nurse (top line before giving local: “you might feel a bit of a prick”)
- An administrator/foreign exchange bod in a small, private merchant bank. My clients included John Paul Getty Jnr and Arthur Hailey. This was in the yuppie 80s. Think power suits, lavish lunches and champagne galore. I hated it. Abandoned glam lifestyle for job as…
- Director’s assistant at the Jersey Arts Centre. Earned a third of my bank salary but could wear leggings, Doc Martens and homemade dangly earrings to work. I did not look a bit like Jo Brand. I loved this job – boozing and schmoozing most nights with actors, artists, musicians and dancers. Cool bananas.
And then it all went wrong. Sort of. I accidentally became fertilized and got the sack from my dream job because of the non-stop puking. But I quite liked my boy when he arrived. So I had another one. He was nice too. (They still are quite nice, really. They do smell a bit though.)
But. Nice as children are, they have kind of obliterated the rest of what I laughingly call my ‘life’. My choice, of course. But still. Part time jobs suck. The highlights:
- An estate agency where three mad duffers wore their wives’ tights under their trousers. This, they said, was just in case they decided to have an impromptu game of golf during quiet winter patches. Yeah, right.
- An architects’ practice. The small team included a 23-yr-old womanizer; a compulsive liar; a depressive chain-smoker and a chap who was rather short.
- PA to a guy who had been declared bankrupt. He was a charming, feckless, lovable rogue who almost got me arrested as an accessory to fraud.
Can you see where I’m going with this? It’s official. I am clearly cursed in the job department.
Becoming a writer is the only option. I can’t think of anything else. *Sigh*
Handy Hint of the Day June 13, 2007
Posted by Jen in : Journal , 25 commentsWhen applying for a job you really fancy, do not, under any circumstances, write the covering letter for said position after manic blog-writing. It will only end in tears. Oh dear.
Dear Ann
Re: Jolly Good Job in Funky Advertising Agency
I noticed the above vacancy on Courier.co.uk and attach my CV for your consideration.
I am currently a [tortured soul in Retail Hell] but would really love the opportunity to work in a more creative environment. I have many years’ experience as an administrator in a surprising range of areas. I am also an experienced proofreader, having worked freelance before taking my current position in Retail Hell.
As well as working part-time, I am halfway through a BA (Hons) in Humanities with English Lit & French with the Open University (recently gaining a Distinction in Creative Writing). Any spare time is taken up with my two terrible children, a novel in (slow) progress and tootling the flute in various chamber orchestras/ensembles.
With so many balls in the air, I have become amazingly well-organised and unflappable while remaining positive and perky (though not nauseatingly so!). In addition to this, I also make great tea…
I truly believe I would be an asset to your fabulous advertising agency and would very much like the opportunity to discuss this application further.
I look forward to hearing from you.
Yes, I look forward to hearing from you – when you arrive with the men in white coats. Sigh. What was I thinking? I’ve been trying to squeeze in through an advertising door for yonks and what do I do when the right door creaks open? Do I walk in with poise and persuade them that I’m a jolly decent type? No. Of course not. I go barging in, run around naked and set fire to their knickers while screaming through a megaphone that I’m a complete and utter spaz. You know, just in case they hadn’t noticed. Yay.
Putting in the Legwork June 11, 2007
Posted by Jen in : Journal , 14 commentsExcellent. Really excellent. ‘I shall immerse myself in my novel this weekend. All weekend. I will connect with it, I will really do it,’ I told myself on Friday. Words written? Erm…
But. I did yoga for the first time in over a year. I had an idea that I would wake up all lithe-limbed and mellow. In actual fact, I woke up this morning to discover that every muscle in my body has contracted to approximately a centimetre in length and I’m crippling about like a crone.
I thought a lot about my novel. Mainly, I was thinking that I don’t want to write it at the moment. I want to write some magazine articles. Yes, magazine articles are exactly what I should be doing. The only drawback is that I don’t seem to have any ideas in my head. What do I have to write about? I’m the boringest person in the whole bloomin universe. Maybe I could become a West End star or something? A spaceman perhaps? Then I’d have something to write about.
My life would be different if I had long legs. I could stride about, looking ever-so-confident. Long legs, yes, that’s it! That’s all I need to become a successful writer.
Oh dear. I am crappily doomed and all because I have the wrong legs. Life is so unfair.
Of Rebellious Rapture June 6, 2007
Posted by Jen in : Bits and Pieces, Journal , 9 commentsI was marching off the day’s stress in the woods this evening when I chanced upon a huge, perky clump of foxgloves. Woo hoo, look at us, they shouted. So I did. No matter how many National Trust gardens and manicured lawns you see, there’s something intrinsically beautiful about wild flowers. Fragile but tenacious; unplanned but defiantly persistent.
I’m bored. Bored with being a suburban square of the expected. Perhaps I should be a little wilder? Become rampant. Unruly. I’m getting nowhere fast by being good and working hard.
Hell – there are no rules here: we’re trying to accomplish something.
Thomas Edison (1847 - 1931)
There’s no business like shoe business June 2, 2007
Posted by Jen in : Journal , 14 commentsThe rain wakes me from a deep sleep. It’s raining, my brain tells me. It’s 2.20 am and it’s raining. Go back to sleep. Or, much better, remember that your idiotic children have left their last pair of dry shoes in the garden. In the rain.
I zombie my way downstairs, avoiding the creaky bit so that everyone else stays asleep. Especially the children. I don’t want to wake the children. The children who left their bastard shoes in the rain.
I am in the garden. Half naked in the garden… at 2.25 in the morning… in the rain…
The dog stands in the doorway, watching me prance around the garden, as I go about my miscellaneous shoe business. Hmmm, you’ve gone a bit mental, the dog telepathies at me.
I think my brain has broken down. Anyone got a spare?
