warmlove's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- An AWFUL Festive Season! *Drinking far too much/And neither of us mean what we say* It has truly been a terrible 24 hours for me. I am currently back in London from being home for 4 days (was good-ish..enjoyed hanging out with Mum and her Foster kids despite the minor tantrums, tears and stern talking-tos that give you an occasional head ache). I get double pay shifts at Harrods on the Versace counter so I'm happy cos I reckon if they like me I might get asked back and then be on effectively �200 extra a month (half my rent, credit card paying off possible, decent weekly food shops,more days off for auditions, affording full-price theatre, gigs, clothes etc...) Anyhoo, so I have to borrow Dad's car and my sisters to drive up to London on Boxing day morning. Shell out for the petrol and I get to my Sunday shift at HOF...I forget the Christmas Food care package in the fridge much to my annoyance. Work flies by, and all I have to do is stand around as rude, crazed sale shoppers descend on the counter. Wankers! I leave work and get sosooo angry about having to fight myway through the ridiculous crowds on Oxford Street. I just had one of my IHATELONDON rage blackouts and stomped down to Waterloo. About half way through Soho my big leather bag strap breaks and all my possessions fly all over the street.(Grrrrr!Last Straw) So I arrive to an empty home with no food in it and drink some over-priced cider. I turn up at Harrods the next day..concerned that they'd pick on my about my hair not being right or my lipstick being 1mm outside of the lipliner border. I squeezed into the worlds most painful 6 inch Primark heels and tottered off to what I thought was my perfume shift. They seem suprised to see me, shocked that I'm working with them in Versace fragrance (I store this in my mind as the fact that no temps who look like me have worked down there for them!) I work my arse off for and hour and a half and then get a phone call from my agancy saying that I'm mean to be on Versace FASHION. I get sooooooo angry cos I'd been lead to believe that they were letting me gat the best pay, in the fragrance hall where I know theres something subtly racist about their selection process! I thought that I'd been pushy enough to challenge that and that there was finally gonna be a bit of fairness..blah, bahl, excetera.. So I have to work 2 fucking extra hours to make up for my mistake...in Versace fashion which is awful just an uncomfortable, un-fun place to work and I don't know how to sell clothes to rich people...�15,000 for a white dress I could get in TK Maxx and �5,000 for a blue cardigan ( I arrive at Harrods in a skanky hooded Primark Kids coat, old Primark scarf and dirty Primark granny bag). I go on my break and then get distracted on my way back to work as I chat to a friend I haven't seen for ages..I get back 7 minutes late and the boss lady notices. Whoops. So I get a phone call this morning as I'm getting ready for another dreaded (though �20 an hour, yes please!!) day back at harrods, saying that the manager was cancelling all my shifts and never wanted me back again. FUCK! About �400 gone this week from the double time. I AM FUCKED financially. I dunno how I'm gonna get out of this hole???? Plus side..I have �10 left in the world and that will be funding for the 2 bottles of wine I will take to this random New Years party that I'm probably going to with Sparkles...always gotta look on the bright.. 4:35 p.m. - 2010-12-28 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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