Sconesense

Was yesterday International Scone Day? There were scone crumbs everywhere like a scone and jam bomb went off in the mezzanine. Jam and carpet is not a fun mix. I imagined middle aged men and women chatting and eating but thinking they could do it at the some time and thus spraying crumbly pieces of cake all over the place. (Do I need to teach you to use a plate? Or even chew with your mouth closed?) When I got to the main kitchen area on level one it was the same thing: scones, jam and tubs of cream left out to go bad. For once in their lives the workers of level one weren’t as bad as whoever was in the mezzanine for their Devonshire tea.

I’m a bit shitty about work last night. We were asked to do some extra work over the next two nights and because I actually did it I ended really late. I asked for overtime and they didn’t give me a straight answer. I asked via text. I already had a headache before starting work and was rather tense and upset by that stage. Thus I decided I wouldn’t read the reply until this morning. As I said the answer wasn’t straight. A text from the boss and one from the supervisor saying stop doing the extra work and finish your regular tasks NOW! So I assume I won’t be getting any. Fucking typical!

They asked so they can look good and pass the extra critical inspections. (Critical in that they will be more through. It’s not until the end of March that they will decide if we’re keeping the contract. The bosses sound more confident that they will. I just feel like it’s getting ridiculous. They keep pushing the date back so in theory we’re all stressed out and supposedly giving 110% everyday). Why should my hard work reward them and not me? Like I tell myself I don’t give a shit if they lose the contract but then I think well I do for my fellow cleaners. But management and the company can go...you know, themselves.

I’ll drink a cup of tea to that! Though I can’t say I’ve ever fancied scones. Not big on jam but there’s not much flavour without it.

Oh Shit!

I had a fairly shitty start to my work day. A classic case of the "Mondays." I just can't stand being there or doing the same old shit everyday. It has been over a year now, more than long enough to try any one's patience. I felt crappy before I got there, (as the Men in my life may have noticed), and I felt crappy once I started. Somehow I got through it. Perhaps because they did steam cleaning today and that cut down dramatically on my vacuuming. (Although truth be told I get pissed off when they steam clean because to my cleaner's eyes I just see so much stuff that they miss).

Anyway! I actually finished on time which is usually a cause for celebration. But no, that's not the best thing to happen to me tonight. Not by a long shot. On my way home from the tram stop I usually stop to piggy-back some free wireless on my iPod touch; check the weather and my email. All I got was one email, but it was very exciting. It was from my old boss David and though extremely short it was good news. In fact all it said was: Amy, We've been invited by Disney USA to submit scripts for the series. D.

Hence the "Oh Shit!" Which was my initial reply to him. It's just shocking, and the last thing I was expecting to hear. Now that I've calmed down a bit I have to ask him what this actually means. And I also have to admit that I haven't been working on my script since last year. Once I stopped to go overseas I never really got started again. FUCK! Talk about screwing up. I've already replied asking him to tell me everything and what is expected, (if anything), of me now at this stage. [Omigod! We've reached another stage!!] But now I have to wait and see what that means.


I shall enjoy the the lift in my spirits for now though, as you can see in my photo. That's also the book I was so supposed to adapt into a script. I have started! But yes I may have shot myself in the foot by giving up so recently. That foot that wanted to get in the door.

Food Glorious Food

On Monday I got a phone call to come in for an interview for a kitchen hand position I had applied for around midnight on the weekend while I was wasting time online. The company name looked familiar and when they told me the address I knew it was the place I had applied to almost two years ago as a dishwasher. Back then they asked me in the next day but not to do dishes, as I would have expected, but rather count napkins and wrap them in cling-wrap. I guess I failed to impress because I never heard from them again. I wonder how I did this time. It’s really hard to tell because the interview itself lasted less than five minutes. The questions were pretty much what they asked me over the phone that morning. The only time I felt I stumbled was not having any immediate questions for them. I thought, shit this is happening too fast, I never even thought about what I’d want to ask them. All I could think of was “How many positions are there?” Just one. They’ll call if I get it. I don’t think I will. But of course feeling relatively okay after the interview I played the What My Life Would Be Like If I Got A New Job game. (I know, so dangerous for someone with my personality). What I was really excited about was the possibility of going back to tap dancing.

I miss it so much. It was the best thing I had going for me for the brief time I got to do it. I'm not the greatest student - it didn't help that I started when I was working the graveyard cleaning shift and thus was tired out of my brain to begin with - but it was so much fun and the people were really nice. Look at my teacher.

She's beautiful! And not just good looking, (for a blonde), but such a lovely person: always happy, laughing and joking. It's hard to explain but I think about it so much. I listen to some of the songs from routines for comfort. I often think about steps and want to do them where ever I am. Including the lifts at work when I'm cleaning them. And fuck it sometimes I do a bit. Who cares what the cameras see?

My original plan for Monday was to see Julie & Julia before work. When they asked me in for the interview I almost said I wasn’t free because of the film. Madness I know. Instead I just had to bring everything with me to the interview, just in case. It turned out fine. I thought I was going to be late for the interview but I got there with ten minutes to spare and as it turned out I was done with my five minutes (or rather less) interview at 1 o’clock the time I had to be there.

It was a nice film, full of food, most of which I wouldn’t be game to eat but it all looked good. I was a bit jealous of Julie’s blogging success. (Of course I’m a petty person. And I want to be a writer just as much as her!) She had structure and purpose which is what I wanted this to have too but as you know Go Girl! never took off. I write a bit about work but I can’t find anything nice to say about it. You know what they say, “If you can’t think of anything nice to say don’t say anything at all.”

Being a kitchen hand isn’t something I desperately want to do. Cleaning, cooking, I can’t help making “woman’s work” connections. Like playing “house” was really preparing me for adulthood, without the husband and kids bit. There’s nothing wrong with these jobs but...some feminist ideals I can't express properly but which end up making me seem sexist in the end. Of the two I actually enjoy cooking, but like in the movie it’s a pleasurable past time I don’t want it to be my career. Well obviously Julia Child was very happy cooking and ended up making it a great career for herself, but she belongs to the celebrity chef class. Besides if I cooked that much I’d probably start to recent it. Being a kitchen hand is still too close to the grunt work, making it nice for Other people with better (less embarrassing) jobs and decent salaries. See I am a snob! Sigh!

Oh well it being Friday now and not receiving a call I don’t think I got the job. It’s disappointing but not as much as the first time. At least I have a job at the moment. Even one that upsets me so much I do stupid things like cry, cut myself or drink. I’ve managed a hat-trick some nights. More recently than I care to admit.

The Old Man didn’t really want me to get the job* and even my potential new “uncle” was trying to be upbeat by saying if I did get it he wouldn’t be able to see me during the day. Well so far I’ve been too shy to meet anyway. Sometimes it’s like, “God do I need another married man to hang out with?” And other times it feel like it could be fun. It is a good to have something to do be before the agony of work. And I don’t mean sex – shit, if that’s not obvious by now I am, publically and online, stating I am a BAD writer. No I just like the company. It’s not quite the same as saying we’re friends. (Friends with Benefits, gag! You know the married party came up with the one!) That’s the bright side Terry should keep in mind. If I got a day job obviously it makes it a lot harder for me to go off with married men. Or any man for that matter.

*Oh I tell a lie of course he would be please for me if I got a new job. He knows how much I hate cleaning and working those hours. A day job, full time hours to boot, would make a HUGE difference in my life.