August 1st

The first day…. And I nearly forgot. Great start Paige. 

So, it’s Sunday August 1st, I am sitting half watching Back to the Future and half flicking through various websites I visit on an all too regular basis. I have plenty I could be doing, finishing my screenplay and catching up on things generally, but I’m not. 

Do you know why this is? Because I’ve had a rubbish day.  

It’s all too easy to moan away to you little blog, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Last summer I spent most of my time working, 6 days over 7 usually, about 10 hours a day. I didn’t particularly like my job, but it paid pretty well and I worked so much that I didn’t really have time to spend my money, and as a result, it accumulated quite nicely. This summer however, I have a different job. It pays… poorly, and these days I seem to be working an average of four hours over 2 days. Which basically means my wages are spent by Sunday evening. The difference is, I quite like this job, and it would be absolutely ideal if it gave me more hours. 

“Just get a new job!” I hear you all cry…. silently… In my mind…

Well, I would, except that I’m not qualified for much else other than hospitality, and there are roughly no jobs going in that area where I live at the moment, plus, it would mean giving up my current job, where the people are nice, to some unknown entity. Scary stuff. 

Also, I’ve been promised more hours for weeks now, and every time I consider applying for something else, my manager says he’ll be getting rid of the newest girl because she’s not very good and there isn’t money to pay her and asks me if I want the shifts. However these past few weeks this very same girl has been getting more hours than me. How is that morally even allowed? And how is someone supposed to survive and support herself on less than £20 a week? I would be earning more on the dole, if I was allowed to be on the dole, which I’m not, because I’m a student and apparently only entitled to money 9 months of the year. Absolute Poo. 

Moan over. Oh, except one thing, I burnt the roof of my mouth earlier eating a very tasty bruchetta. Bitter sweet or what?

It’s weird, I’ve been sitting facing a blank word document for days, unable to write, then all of a sudden, I’m faced with my lovely safe blog, which lets face it, only about two people read, and I’m a typing maniac, battering out 400 words without breaking a sweat. What is wrong with me?! I think it’s the fact that I have all these separate and disparate ideas floating around my head, all arguing with one another for priority, and I don’t really have much faith in any of them, they don’t seem to have a lot of mileage for me to run with and actually complete a story. Silly characters… failing me all of the time. 

Well this has been a strange and disjointed bloggy blog, but I feel better having vented my spleen, thank you :)