Just when you thought...
This has been a weird 48 Hours.
The main reason I didn't blog last night was that I was actually drinking at a pub down the street from The Highbury Courthouse with Chris.
When I say drinking, I actually got pretty drunk. I was still drunk two hours later at about 11pm when Masao asked me to cut his hair.
In any case, Yesterday I called the list and had my best list calling day yet. Everything seemed to work okay, I was pell-melling to make everything fit and flow but by and large it kept moving and I got to chat to a cute petite blonde Barrister.
Seriously, one of the things which keeps me in this job is the chicks. Yep, I'm totally sexist, but that is the truth.
Anyways, I did pretty damn well (even if I did call up someone who wasn't even in the building at one stage) and Elaine was pretty impressed. So much so that today she left me to set up, get things moving and finish up, only occaisionally coming in to make sure that everything was still going fine.
Probably the hardest thing yesterday was running three blocks with my bag so that I didn't miss the Tube to Catch the Train to get to Work.
Of course, yesterday and today there was an 0807 Silverlink to Richmond Running, which compounds my theory that on Friday the abscence of said service was purely and simply a ploy by the powers that be to try to break me.
But I am Unbroken! Har!
[Calms himself and climbs down off desk]
At the end of the day I was feeling so good that I just felt like kicking back and hanging out with my colleague, and we wound up shooting the shit and sinking the beer in said pub.
Chris drank more beer than me, so he had a bigger headache than I when he got up this morning, but he compensated by getting an extra hour and a half of sleep, vis a vis crashing at the house of a girl that he had hooked up with about a week ago who lives on the opposite side of Highbury Fields.
Today played out differently.
The morning was more random, but I am comfortable enough in my job now that I can recognise the difference between me being thrown a curveball and me being completely incompetent and unable to deal with the simplest of tasks effectively.
When I say random, I mean there was a woman in custody who had been seen by a solicitor from the wrong firm (she was Legal Aid'ed to a different firm), there was a solicitor who was ready to represent an absent client, the CPS had their file but the Pink Folder (which goes to the Clerk (kind of assistant to the Magistrate) was nowhere to be seen. There was a case which was "Moved to the 19th". Which is fine, but the 19th was YESTERDAY. Ie the file had fallen through a wormhole in space and emerged twenty-four hours in the past, where we had dealt with it and sent it on it's way.
Yep, it was weird. And I managed to field it all pretty well.
Lunchtime brought turbulence.
If I haven't, let me describe Chris for you.
Chris is 23, 6'1, Slim, strangely handsome with unkempt hair and a permanent three day growth. He is well spoken and intelligent, he is well educated and charming.
And he is also even more self-destructive than I am.
If such a thing exists in the Dusty Tomes of Psychology, I'd say that him and I are perfect examples of the Phoenix Complex: an incurable tendency to Crash and Burn.
Anyways, after our Payslips had come in over the weekend, Chris had decided that we just weren't being paid enough for the job that we were doing (which is Bloody Hard, make no mistake), and at lunch he decided to call Diamond Resourcing (our agency) and tell them so.
He was dealt with rudely down the phone line. So, after a short period of stewing, he called Diamond again and got the Assistant Director of the company. And he let her have it.
He basically said that he no longer wanted to be represented by the Angency and refused to work for them. He resigned from their books.
Of course, that means that he doesn't work at Highbury anymore, something which threw all of us (me, Elaine, and Anje won't like it when she gets back either) into some wobbles.
I respect Chris for having the balls, though I confess that I am more of a Suck It Up Marine type. Probably to a fault.
I wish him well, he's smart and he seems like the kind of guy that always falls on his feet.
But I can't follow him.
Part of it is because of the money: I have rent covered for this month. Food would be good as well.
But also just to be working means that I'm not caught in my usual self-destructive loops of inaction and stagnation. The job has allowed me to break out of the Psychic Paralysis that I have spent too much of my life in.
Furthermore, the fact that I am doing a job that this time last week I was complaining that I was just not psychologically or aptitudinally equipped to do means a lot to me.
Let's face it, I am someone who finds it far too easy to punk out of things when they get too hard. I've done it to study way too many times. I've done it to relationships (maybe not as often as I should have). I've done it with things that could have led me to some kind of productive and fulfilling life.
Doing a job that I had wanted to walk out on a dozen times fills me with a strange sort of pride. I sleep better (though not enough). I am slightly slimmer. The intensity I once had, the intensity that I misguidedly tried to erase from my personality, is coming back to me, only now I am aware of it, so I can focus it better.
And, of course, there are the girls. Attractive, intelligent and educated girls that wouldn't otherwise look twice at me here in London in my leather and T-shirt uniform.
A very superficial reason for staying, but it has stopped me from walking out more times than I care to recount.
Of course, this is all having a strange, mutagenic effect on my personality. On Saturday I inadvertantly list-called a coming show for What's Cookin'.
But I'm happy with the way that I going.
And I'm going to keep running with this job for a while yet.
Of course, this means that I might have to cancel my trip back to Australia in November.
In any case, I have to sign this one off.
Over and out.
J
The main reason I didn't blog last night was that I was actually drinking at a pub down the street from The Highbury Courthouse with Chris.
When I say drinking, I actually got pretty drunk. I was still drunk two hours later at about 11pm when Masao asked me to cut his hair.
In any case, Yesterday I called the list and had my best list calling day yet. Everything seemed to work okay, I was pell-melling to make everything fit and flow but by and large it kept moving and I got to chat to a cute petite blonde Barrister.
Seriously, one of the things which keeps me in this job is the chicks. Yep, I'm totally sexist, but that is the truth.
Anyways, I did pretty damn well (even if I did call up someone who wasn't even in the building at one stage) and Elaine was pretty impressed. So much so that today she left me to set up, get things moving and finish up, only occaisionally coming in to make sure that everything was still going fine.
Probably the hardest thing yesterday was running three blocks with my bag so that I didn't miss the Tube to Catch the Train to get to Work.
Of course, yesterday and today there was an 0807 Silverlink to Richmond Running, which compounds my theory that on Friday the abscence of said service was purely and simply a ploy by the powers that be to try to break me.
But I am Unbroken! Har!
[Calms himself and climbs down off desk]
At the end of the day I was feeling so good that I just felt like kicking back and hanging out with my colleague, and we wound up shooting the shit and sinking the beer in said pub.
Chris drank more beer than me, so he had a bigger headache than I when he got up this morning, but he compensated by getting an extra hour and a half of sleep, vis a vis crashing at the house of a girl that he had hooked up with about a week ago who lives on the opposite side of Highbury Fields.
Today played out differently.
The morning was more random, but I am comfortable enough in my job now that I can recognise the difference between me being thrown a curveball and me being completely incompetent and unable to deal with the simplest of tasks effectively.
When I say random, I mean there was a woman in custody who had been seen by a solicitor from the wrong firm (she was Legal Aid'ed to a different firm), there was a solicitor who was ready to represent an absent client, the CPS had their file but the Pink Folder (which goes to the Clerk (kind of assistant to the Magistrate) was nowhere to be seen. There was a case which was "Moved to the 19th". Which is fine, but the 19th was YESTERDAY. Ie the file had fallen through a wormhole in space and emerged twenty-four hours in the past, where we had dealt with it and sent it on it's way.
Yep, it was weird. And I managed to field it all pretty well.
Lunchtime brought turbulence.
If I haven't, let me describe Chris for you.
Chris is 23, 6'1, Slim, strangely handsome with unkempt hair and a permanent three day growth. He is well spoken and intelligent, he is well educated and charming.
And he is also even more self-destructive than I am.
If such a thing exists in the Dusty Tomes of Psychology, I'd say that him and I are perfect examples of the Phoenix Complex: an incurable tendency to Crash and Burn.
Anyways, after our Payslips had come in over the weekend, Chris had decided that we just weren't being paid enough for the job that we were doing (which is Bloody Hard, make no mistake), and at lunch he decided to call Diamond Resourcing (our agency) and tell them so.
He was dealt with rudely down the phone line. So, after a short period of stewing, he called Diamond again and got the Assistant Director of the company. And he let her have it.
He basically said that he no longer wanted to be represented by the Angency and refused to work for them. He resigned from their books.
Of course, that means that he doesn't work at Highbury anymore, something which threw all of us (me, Elaine, and Anje won't like it when she gets back either) into some wobbles.
I respect Chris for having the balls, though I confess that I am more of a Suck It Up Marine type. Probably to a fault.
I wish him well, he's smart and he seems like the kind of guy that always falls on his feet.
But I can't follow him.
Part of it is because of the money: I have rent covered for this month. Food would be good as well.
But also just to be working means that I'm not caught in my usual self-destructive loops of inaction and stagnation. The job has allowed me to break out of the Psychic Paralysis that I have spent too much of my life in.
Furthermore, the fact that I am doing a job that this time last week I was complaining that I was just not psychologically or aptitudinally equipped to do means a lot to me.
Let's face it, I am someone who finds it far too easy to punk out of things when they get too hard. I've done it to study way too many times. I've done it to relationships (maybe not as often as I should have). I've done it with things that could have led me to some kind of productive and fulfilling life.
Doing a job that I had wanted to walk out on a dozen times fills me with a strange sort of pride. I sleep better (though not enough). I am slightly slimmer. The intensity I once had, the intensity that I misguidedly tried to erase from my personality, is coming back to me, only now I am aware of it, so I can focus it better.
And, of course, there are the girls. Attractive, intelligent and educated girls that wouldn't otherwise look twice at me here in London in my leather and T-shirt uniform.
A very superficial reason for staying, but it has stopped me from walking out more times than I care to recount.
Of course, this is all having a strange, mutagenic effect on my personality. On Saturday I inadvertantly list-called a coming show for What's Cookin'.
But I'm happy with the way that I going.
And I'm going to keep running with this job for a while yet.
Of course, this means that I might have to cancel my trip back to Australia in November.
In any case, I have to sign this one off.
Over and out.
J
posted by the.exile at 6:38 pm
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