The feet... The pain...

So, I finally have a job. It's only one day per week, but at £60 a day it's not bad. Plus, the people there are great (bye bye stupid ignorant yobs, hello intelligent open minded goth girl). It's easy work, and much easier on the concience than data collecting. It's outside, but hey, at least I'll get a nice tan.

And what is this mysterious job?

Basically, I stand on the pavement and blow bubbles.

I am not joking.

No, I'm not working as special effects provider to 'The Prisoner', this is actually the entirety of my work.

It's on a stall in Camden Lock (one of my favourite places in London, so another plus), that sells bubble toys. Bubble guns, bubble swords (the kind that open and make huge bubbles), the lot. I demonstrate the merchandise.

All things considered, it could be far worse, but my feet are in agony from standing around all day. Plus, we had to stay behind an extra hour to pack up. Oh well.

At least my co-worker Anne is nice, we were talking earlier.

Me: So, do you do much reading? *thinks- probably not*
Anne: Oh yes, every day.
Me: Really? Me too. What do you like reading? *thinks- Either she's exaggerating, or what she reads is mainstream rubbish*
Anne: I really like Edgar Allen Poe.
Me: Wow, so do I! He's great! *scraps entire first impression and cements Anne's place on 'My friend' list)

After a nice talk about gay rights and rascism, all the time Anne showing herself to be completely open minded and possessed of a fun sense of humor, and I'm very, very happy. How wonderful to meet someone intelligent! She's more than ten years younger than most of my co-workers in telemarketing (she's 17) and possessed of more brains and sense than all of them put together.

All in all, quite a satisfactory day.

The feet... The pain...

So, I finally have a job. It's only one day per week, but at £60 a day it's not bad. Plus, the people there are great (bye bye stupid ignorant yobs, hello intelligent open minded goth girl). It's easy work, and much easier on the concience than data collecting. It's outside, but hey, at least I'll get a nice tan.

And what is this mysterious job?

Basically, I stand on the pavement and blow bubbles.

I am not joking.

No, I'm not working as special effects provider to 'The Prisoner', this is actually the entirety of my work.

It's on a stall in Camden Lock (one of my favourite places in London, so another plus), that sells bubble toys. Bubble guns, bubble swords (the kind that open and make huge bubbles), the lot. I demonstrate the merchandise.

All things considered, it could be far worse, but my feet are in agony from standing around all day. Plus, we had to stay behind an extra hour to pack up. Oh well.

At least my co-worker Anne is nice, we were talking earlier.

Me: So, do you do much reading? *thinks- probably not*
Anne: Oh yes, every day.
Me: Really? Me too. What do you like reading? *thinks- Either she's exaggerating, or what she reads is mainstream rubbish*
Anne: I really like Edgar Allen Poe.
Me: Wow, so do I! He's great! *scraps entire first impression and cements Anne's place on 'My friend' list)

After a nice talk about gay rights and rascism, all the time Anne showing herself to be completely open minded and possessed of a fun sense of humor, and I'm very, very happy. How wonderful to meet someone intelligent! She's more than ten years younger than most of my co-workers in telemarketing (she's 17) and possessed of more brains and sense than all of them put together.

All in all, quite a satisfactory day.