Working Life

I’m not at a Caffe Nero? Am I still allowed to blog?

Oddly enough, I actually have two posts that I want to write. They’re probably not that exciting. But, hey ho, I started this blogging project to capture all those amazing overseas moments I was having and I am not one to give up on a challenge half-way through (unless, of course, that challenge includes cold-calling pensioners and asking that they donate their pennies to the poor, disabled dogs and cats of Mexico. Because THAT is a challenge I will give up on in, oh, let’s call it, 16 hours?)

So, I’ve gotten these two jobs, at least one of which I am enjoying a great deal. But, of course, after months of unemployment/underemployment, the sudden flip to 40 – 50 hour weeks was a little much for my slightly unfit, slightly overweight, vegetarian body to stand. Whenever I got time off from work, I would crawl up on the couch, my bed, or occasionally my housemate’s bed (its not weird, she wasn’t there and she said I could do it) and watch endless hours of TV. I rediscovered such classic movies as ‘When Harry Met Sally’, ‘Ghost’ and ‘Castaway’. I watched not-so-classic movies such as ‘Swinging with the Finkels’ (yes, the title should have been a giveaway). I was disturbed by Tilda Swinton and that freaky boy in ‘We Need to Talk About Kevin’. I watched endless, endless episodes of ‘Friends’. In fact, I watched so many episodes of ‘Friends’ that I’m beginning to think that I don’t like the show anymore. Or, it could be that I’ve just reached the crap episodes (ie, the ones that they were making because they knew they were going to have to cancel it, but wanted to squeeze as much money out of the show as possible before they did).

I would get home from work, physically broken from work, but still buzzing and not tired enough to go to sleep and would watch whatever we had recorded over the week whilst eating a bag of chips for my dinner and considering whether I would end up like one of those male university students down in Melbourne who ended up with scurvy (urban legend? Perhaps. However, I’ve gone on a Vitamin C binge today, just in case).

And, then, sometime during this week, all of a sudden, I stopped being so tired. I got used to it. The thought of putting on the TV made me desperately unhappy (whereas, a week previously, the thought of switching off the TV had made me desperately unhappy). It took me kind of by surprise. When I woke up with a free day today, I thought, ‘huh’. Well, then, what shall we do? I ended up spending two hours singing songs and imagining that I was auditioning for the X-Factor (needless to say, Gary Barlow thought I was excellent. The cat, however, disagreed and left the room in a sulk).

So, there you go. Not earth-shattering, or life-changing, but its good to know that I won’t be spending all my time in London either at work, or in front of the TV. I went on a sneaky day-trip to Brighton last Monday after 10 days of work in a row and it was revelation. Walking through London Bridge station, I was looking at all the people going, ‘Oh, that’s right! I live in London! London, England! That’s a really big place that doesn’t just consist of my apartment and Clapham Common. Excellent.’

I intend to make better use of my non-work time next week with the cunning use of lists…

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