I don't work at Highbury Corner any more.
I don't have enough time to type in the details, but this morning there was an incident when I called on a triple-hander without realising that one of the defendants and his counsel was in the ante-chamber just outside the courtroom, temporarily throwing the courtroom into disarray.
The Clerk actually descended from his desk to tell me off about calling people on when they are not in the room, and the next thing I know another list caller is taking over my list and sending me downstairs, where I was told, by one of the Supervisors, that the Magistrates had collectively decided that I just wasn't learning fast enough, and that it was time to let me go.
So I filled out my timesheet, picked up my stuff, said goodbye to some people and left.
I wandered down to Angel feeling benumbed, when I realised that I had left my phone hidded under the list caller's desk in the courtroom, and I had go back and retrieve it.
I said goodbye to the ones I didn't see before, and left again.
That was all before lunch.
.
.
.
.
I feel, in different measures: angry, depressed, betrayed, frustrated with myself that I couldn't make it work, upset with a situation that I feel didn't give me a fair chance, stupid for not handing in that application to Borders and relieved that I have enough money to pay rent for this month and eat for the next two weeks.
Being a person that keeps most of my emotions pretty tightly under control most of the time (anyone who thinks that I'm emotional would truly be shocked if I expressed everything that was happening inside me), I have managed to maintain for most of the afternoon.
There is only one thought that causes the wheel to slide beneath my hands:
Dad, I've let you down again.
I know. Pathetic self pity, the kind I can do without. And I know that my parents still love me etc. It just would have been nice to hold down this job longer. Long enough to make a dignified exit, into something better.
But it is not all bleak.
I called Diamond, and they believe that they will be able to find me something very soon, if not for Monday.
The possibility they presented me with was another courthouse, working in the office, in Camberwell.
Same money, longer travelling.
If I do it, I'll only do it until I can find something better.
It is clear now that the concepts of Loyalty and Honour belong to a language not spoken in London.
I'm going out to see Killing Joke.
I'm going to go out, have fun and do some thinking.
And tomorrow I'm getting up early, pay the rent at the Nationwide Bank at Stratford and flesh out some more on what went wrong, what I learned and what I'm going to do next.
I'm down. But I'm not out.
Over and out.
J
I don't have enough time to type in the details, but this morning there was an incident when I called on a triple-hander without realising that one of the defendants and his counsel was in the ante-chamber just outside the courtroom, temporarily throwing the courtroom into disarray.
The Clerk actually descended from his desk to tell me off about calling people on when they are not in the room, and the next thing I know another list caller is taking over my list and sending me downstairs, where I was told, by one of the Supervisors, that the Magistrates had collectively decided that I just wasn't learning fast enough, and that it was time to let me go.
So I filled out my timesheet, picked up my stuff, said goodbye to some people and left.
I wandered down to Angel feeling benumbed, when I realised that I had left my phone hidded under the list caller's desk in the courtroom, and I had go back and retrieve it.
I said goodbye to the ones I didn't see before, and left again.
That was all before lunch.
.
.
.
.
I feel, in different measures: angry, depressed, betrayed, frustrated with myself that I couldn't make it work, upset with a situation that I feel didn't give me a fair chance, stupid for not handing in that application to Borders and relieved that I have enough money to pay rent for this month and eat for the next two weeks.
Being a person that keeps most of my emotions pretty tightly under control most of the time (anyone who thinks that I'm emotional would truly be shocked if I expressed everything that was happening inside me), I have managed to maintain for most of the afternoon.
There is only one thought that causes the wheel to slide beneath my hands:
Dad, I've let you down again.
I know. Pathetic self pity, the kind I can do without. And I know that my parents still love me etc. It just would have been nice to hold down this job longer. Long enough to make a dignified exit, into something better.
But it is not all bleak.
I called Diamond, and they believe that they will be able to find me something very soon, if not for Monday.
The possibility they presented me with was another courthouse, working in the office, in Camberwell.
Same money, longer travelling.
If I do it, I'll only do it until I can find something better.
It is clear now that the concepts of Loyalty and Honour belong to a language not spoken in London.
I'm going out to see Killing Joke.
I'm going to go out, have fun and do some thinking.
And tomorrow I'm getting up early, pay the rent at the Nationwide Bank at Stratford and flesh out some more on what went wrong, what I learned and what I'm going to do next.
I'm down. But I'm not out.
Over and out.
J
posted by the.exile at 5:23 pm
2 Comments:
Hi J,
I haven't had a chance to visit in a few days and, here I am, meaning, really, to go to bed after updating my website, just thinking I'll grab a peak at what you've been up to, and what do I find?
I tell you, there are no accidents.
Can I tell you a secret? Once I sold cars.
Now, I don't give a rat's behind about automobiles. In fact - although I'm hypocrite, in that I drive one and appreciate the incredible convenience compared to taking the bus - we have no real mass transit in the States - my true feeling about cars is this:
They are a bane on our species.
They have caused us to move into impossible and ugly "non-communities" from which we must drive to buy a carton of milk.
They are lethal weapons responsible, largely, for global warming and pollution. And even good people can turn into arrogant maniacs behind their wheels.
Indeed, until I sold cars, I knew very little about them and cared less.
However, I found myself in desperate financial circumstances, (no fault of my own - but that's a long story) thus I became that detestable creature:
the used car salesperson.
Shocking, I know. It may end our cyber relationship. You may not want my words on your website, for the used car salesperson is a pariah.
But that's because they are usually so uninformed and so concerned about their commissions as opposed to actually rendering a service.
So I studied the cars. I could recommend specific cars for real reasons. I learned sales techniques. I learned how to find out what my customers really needed and suggest a match.
I worked like a dog 70 hours a week, including weekends (not including the studying I did at home) and, as a result, I sold more cars one month than anyone else. One month I sold ten and received a $1000 bonus and a certificate.
But you know what, although I was good at it - because I forced myself to be good at it - I hated it.
I even cried in the bathroom when customers were mean to me, and then put on a false happy face for the next one.
I desperately wanted to quit, but didn't. Why? I felt I had to "succeed."
After a few months I moved to a more prestigous dealership so I could make more money and get solvent faster. Besides, I needed a change. I thought learning a new product line might distract me from my loathing.
But I still hated it, in fact, even more. This time I liked the customers better, but detested the dealership - what a bunch of nobs, seriously.
(Look at how I am violating my "judge not lest ye be judged" principles for you.)
But seriously, I hated it so much that I couldn't "push" cars as this dealership expected (I actually believe people should buy a car they like, not be convinced to buy what the salesperson has.)
The result?
I was fired. Canned. Shown the door.
You know what? It was one of the best things that ever happened to me. And I made up my mind, no matter what happened, I would never do that kind of thing to myself again, i.e. make myself do something I absolutely detested, no matter how much it paid.
And I haven't. I'm writing now, which is what I love to do. (You couldn't tell, could you?)
So listen to a woman old enough to be your mother who has learned a few things:
Stop blaming yourself for losing that terrible job.
You hated it. You are not - and repeat this - you are NOT a failure for not liking that job, for not being able to force yourself into that mold.
You have, in fact, been successful in getting out of a job you hated - and it sounded like for darn good reasons - that you would have forced yourself to keep on doing, making yourself miserable more times than not.
You must be true to yourself. And, obviously, you must do something else that you, at least, do not hate doing.
The preference, of course, is to find a job you actually enjoy.
That job or career is out there and you'll find it. So take the next step toward it. You're smart, aware - don't sell yourself short.
Believe it or not, in a year or two or five you will look back and say: "That was progress. I didn't know it at the time, but it was a good thing."
So, you may indulge in self-pity and recrimination for exactly 5 more hours after you read this.
Then you're cut off. You can only say good things to yourself about yourself.
Life is an experiment. 24/7 it's an experiment. You didn't fail, you just found something that wasn't for you.
Maybe selling used cars is for you, but I doubt it. Especially in a place where, as I understand it, there is zero parking space.
Hope I made you laugh this time.
If not, laugh at the fact you've escaped hell.
Expect the best, turn on the charm and go out seeking something you like. Don't waste time criticizing yourself. Criticize someone else - like me for example - who gives you unsolicited advice.
By the way, I went out with my hubby and listened to some great music tonight. Nothing new - all passe - music for dinosaurs. But I danced and had a wonderful time and got a lead to, possibly, teach a class on writing/publishing which I would really enjoy.
Okay, this is way too long.
Take good care.
Have some chicken soup or something.
Clyo
P.S. Here's my prayer for right work (yeah like you might read that.) Forget it. I don't want you to think I'm a religious nutter preying on the newly freed, hoping for conversion. Icccck. I'll just say it for you.
Thanks Clyo.
I thought that if you were an American and you didn't like cars they put you on some kind of Blacklist, right next to Lucille Ball and Arthur Miller : )
Like I said, I'm feeling much better.
But I might go for that chicken soup.
J
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