Friday on My Mind
Interesting day.
I've been waking up pretty early lately. Like half seven or something.
But that's because I've been sleeping with the window open to let the cool breeze in, which necessitates drawing the curtains.
(Most of the time I remeber to close them again before I walk around naked.)
So I wake up at half seven with light on my face, and since I hate sunlight I close them again and go back to bed.
This morning I was re-awoken at half ten by one of my agencies, asking if I wanted to work at the Courthouse in King's Cross.
Naturally I don't want to work at the courthouse, but I need the money. So I said yes.
He told me to come down to Diamond Resourcing and re-introduce myself. I told him I'd be there by 12.
At 1210 I arrived, having missed a bus, a train and made a Mal Paso on the stairs up from Bank Tube Station which worried me that I might had done my Ipod a Mischief (it was in my satchet). Fortunately the Ipod was fine and the bloke was on the phone to his boss when I arrived.
All I had to do was fill out some forms (I'm pretty sure that I had filled out said forms months ago) and that was that.
I spent the next hour or so wandering around the Leadenhall Markets, which, in contrast to when I was last there in January (on one of the days it snowed in London) it was actually full of office workers having their liquid lunches.
There were also a Waterstones, a HMV and a couple of newsagents.
In the Waterstones I found a couple of ginchy new horror novels, which I might like to check out sometime soon.
Side note, I'm still thinking about that novel I started thinking about a year ago, the one about Brisbane. And I'm trying to think of a decent narrative I can hang my brutal Splatter and Street Pharmacology on. Then again, it never stopped Bret Easton Ellis.
Speaking of whom, he is speaking somewhere in London in a couple of weeks. I think I'll try to get at ticket.
Back to the Story.
Looking in the HMV I was tempted to pick up the new Opeth. As well as a couple of Primal Scream records. But I decided to buy them at Virgin, since I have some kind of Loyalt card there.
Skip forward a couple of hours, and I did buy the new Opeth. And for my trouble I also got a wristband to see the Dandy Warhols play a special set in the Basement. Nice!
Anyways, I later found myself in a WH Smith where there was a blue eyed cashier with long red hair. I wanted to chat her up, but somehow I felt nervous.
What's that about. I don't get nervous.
Anyways, I bought a copy of the Times and paid another 99p for an accompanying copy of Fear And Loathing in Las Vegas. I'd already read it, but my copy was back in Brisbane. And Hunter S Thompson is always good to have around.
I walked to the Embankment tube station, walked through the subway to get to the Bank Station while talking to some Friendly Northerners who had been to Australia and took the Tube to Tottenham Court Road.
There I went to Turnkey Audio to look at controller keyboards to plug into my laptop.
And I got into a conversation with a Maltese drummer who was doing mad double kick rolls on the trigger kit. He talked me into giving him my contact details when I found out I used to sing in Australia.
After much consideration I bought a two octave trigger controller keyboard with eight assignable knobs, for about £80.
Then I took my booty to Borders, then to Virgin. A band that may or may not have been the Dandys were sound checking downstairs.
The cashier that rung through Opeths new album for me was actually from Melbourne.
Tube home, read the First chapter of Fear and Loathing and listened to Maiden on the Ipod.
Here's my thoughts about the job:
£6.50 and hour. Which means £5.50 after tax. Thirty five hours a week (give or take) and that comes to just under £200 a week. That means if I work two weeks there I'll have a months rent, plus change.
This is where it gets tricky. They told me that the position is On-Going. That means that I'll either get fired with no warning after a week. Or I'll get fired with no warning after six weeks. Or they'll fire me with no warning when I least expect it anyway.
Also: the Agency bloke told me that even though I have only had two weeks working at another courthouse (after which they dismissed me without warning or reason) he would really prefer it if I told the manager that I have had between four and six weeks experience working at a courthouse.
Joy. I just hope that the managers at the new place are better at explaining things than the last courthouse, where the manager of the office spoke with a ridiculously thick West Indian Accent.
Of course, the main problem with the last job was that I was totally distracted by my crush on the redhead temp who signed on the same day I did. Add to that sleep deprivation, and blah blah blah
I did hate that job, all the same.
Maybe this one will be more fun. I'll use spur to try to find something a bit better.
Anyways, gotta go.
I need to drop stuff home then get out to see the Dandys.
Yay.
Over and out.
J
I've been waking up pretty early lately. Like half seven or something.
But that's because I've been sleeping with the window open to let the cool breeze in, which necessitates drawing the curtains.
(Most of the time I remeber to close them again before I walk around naked.)
So I wake up at half seven with light on my face, and since I hate sunlight I close them again and go back to bed.
This morning I was re-awoken at half ten by one of my agencies, asking if I wanted to work at the Courthouse in King's Cross.
Naturally I don't want to work at the courthouse, but I need the money. So I said yes.
He told me to come down to Diamond Resourcing and re-introduce myself. I told him I'd be there by 12.
At 1210 I arrived, having missed a bus, a train and made a Mal Paso on the stairs up from Bank Tube Station which worried me that I might had done my Ipod a Mischief (it was in my satchet). Fortunately the Ipod was fine and the bloke was on the phone to his boss when I arrived.
All I had to do was fill out some forms (I'm pretty sure that I had filled out said forms months ago) and that was that.
I spent the next hour or so wandering around the Leadenhall Markets, which, in contrast to when I was last there in January (on one of the days it snowed in London) it was actually full of office workers having their liquid lunches.
There were also a Waterstones, a HMV and a couple of newsagents.
In the Waterstones I found a couple of ginchy new horror novels, which I might like to check out sometime soon.
Side note, I'm still thinking about that novel I started thinking about a year ago, the one about Brisbane. And I'm trying to think of a decent narrative I can hang my brutal Splatter and Street Pharmacology on. Then again, it never stopped Bret Easton Ellis.
Speaking of whom, he is speaking somewhere in London in a couple of weeks. I think I'll try to get at ticket.
Back to the Story.
Looking in the HMV I was tempted to pick up the new Opeth. As well as a couple of Primal Scream records. But I decided to buy them at Virgin, since I have some kind of Loyalt card there.
Skip forward a couple of hours, and I did buy the new Opeth. And for my trouble I also got a wristband to see the Dandy Warhols play a special set in the Basement. Nice!
Anyways, I later found myself in a WH Smith where there was a blue eyed cashier with long red hair. I wanted to chat her up, but somehow I felt nervous.
What's that about. I don't get nervous.
Anyways, I bought a copy of the Times and paid another 99p for an accompanying copy of Fear And Loathing in Las Vegas. I'd already read it, but my copy was back in Brisbane. And Hunter S Thompson is always good to have around.
I walked to the Embankment tube station, walked through the subway to get to the Bank Station while talking to some Friendly Northerners who had been to Australia and took the Tube to Tottenham Court Road.
There I went to Turnkey Audio to look at controller keyboards to plug into my laptop.
And I got into a conversation with a Maltese drummer who was doing mad double kick rolls on the trigger kit. He talked me into giving him my contact details when I found out I used to sing in Australia.
After much consideration I bought a two octave trigger controller keyboard with eight assignable knobs, for about £80.
Then I took my booty to Borders, then to Virgin. A band that may or may not have been the Dandys were sound checking downstairs.
The cashier that rung through Opeths new album for me was actually from Melbourne.
Tube home, read the First chapter of Fear and Loathing and listened to Maiden on the Ipod.
Here's my thoughts about the job:
£6.50 and hour. Which means £5.50 after tax. Thirty five hours a week (give or take) and that comes to just under £200 a week. That means if I work two weeks there I'll have a months rent, plus change.
This is where it gets tricky. They told me that the position is On-Going. That means that I'll either get fired with no warning after a week. Or I'll get fired with no warning after six weeks. Or they'll fire me with no warning when I least expect it anyway.
Also: the Agency bloke told me that even though I have only had two weeks working at another courthouse (after which they dismissed me without warning or reason) he would really prefer it if I told the manager that I have had between four and six weeks experience working at a courthouse.
Joy. I just hope that the managers at the new place are better at explaining things than the last courthouse, where the manager of the office spoke with a ridiculously thick West Indian Accent.
Of course, the main problem with the last job was that I was totally distracted by my crush on the redhead temp who signed on the same day I did. Add to that sleep deprivation, and blah blah blah
I did hate that job, all the same.
Maybe this one will be more fun. I'll use spur to try to find something a bit better.
Anyways, gotta go.
I need to drop stuff home then get out to see the Dandys.
Yay.
Over and out.
J
posted by the.exile at 4:37 pm
1 Comments:
Thanks!
I visited both your blogs, and I have to say that they both SUCK COCKS!
Feedback like this makes me reconsider my stance on subject line filtering for Feedback.
To the two feedback leavers, I sincerely hope that Chenyan Separatists murder your children, your house burns down with you fortune stuffed in you rotting mattress and Looters from New Orleans steal the last Hagen Das Ice Cream from your local supermarket.
Choke and Die.
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