Archive for the ‘job’ Category

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RSVP

30 July 2008

Do you know what would be nice? Someone to turn around, or email, or ring and say “you’re shit”. This seems a strange request, but having applied for lord knows how many jobs, it would be nice to some degree for at least one of them to come back and tell me I wasn’t what they were looking for. No?

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Vom

19 June 2008

I am sick. I am consequently feeling sorry for myself. I would argue that this was understandable as I woke up and then chucked up, which is not on the Ririan Project’s list of ways to kick start your day (however turkey is on the list and I can’t see myself eating that when I wake up).I’ve had to flake on the French day and on Impact training tomorrow, while it might have been a first aid course, it may well not be a good idea going full of illness – yeuch! I have decided I’m going to be well by Saturday night so I can go out, but if all fails then I lose 2 weeks wages because I’m set to work Sunday and Monday and miss out on Top B fun, and my name’s on the guestlist too! My moment of fame and I get ill…boo!

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Just Breathe

17 November 2007

I am stressed, peeved and hungry. I have 4000 words eating me. I have spent the day researching and i am precisely no nearer to actually being able to write either of these bloody essays. The clothes I’m ironing are coming out of the laundry almost as dirty as they went in, and I’m paying £3 a pop for the privilege! Sabbs heads will be rolling come Monday. I shan’t stand for this. I’ve got a job, whoopety do. Why? God knows, I don’t need it. I think mother is still engineering, from over 100 miles away, amazing how they manage that. I have little enough time to do everything I need and want to do anyway. I’m thinking about how i’m going to jack it in before I even start. GAH. They give me a shirt and it’s POLYCOTTON, who wears a plastic shirt!? Even my £2 primark tee from last week is 100% cotton. So you can’t iron plastic on max, it melts I guess. Turn it down to one blob and it takes half an hour to get rid of all the creases. And I swear they’re not all out. It’s too much effort before I even start getting paid; paid what? I have no idea what rate I’m on, I’m doing 2 shifts a week, that’s more hours than I ever did at Henderson’s. I don’t feel like I can go and say look I want one night, it said two shifts to begin with anyway. I might leave it a week before I do that. Argue I’ve done three this week. I need to write ESSAYS! And I need to get a degree. It might cost me £200 a week to be here, but it’s going to cost a damned sight more than that if I don’t get a first or at the very least a 2:1. Fuck.