Well, it's official: the grass is always greener on the other side. You had to listen to me whine for 6 months about not having a job and now that I have one, you're going to have to listen to me whine that I do. It irritates me on so many levels, which I shall proceed to list for you in an orderly fashion:
1) It's retail. Just the word prompts an involuntary eye-roll from me.
2) I have to ride the chav-wagon to work, which invariably results in me having to smell or hear something emanating from another passenger which is offensive.
3) I'm expected to smile...a lot (which is discrimination as I have a naturally down-turned mouth).
4) I am currently on a worse wage than when I was working for Asda at the age of 17.
5) I work very early sometimes, and I'm not a morning person.
6) I work very late sometimes, and that means I miss Letterman.
7) I work that awkward, middle of the day shift sometimes, which means you can't do anything in the morning and your evening's ruined too.
8) I get spoken to maybe 12 times a day like a crusty polyp on the sole of any given customer's kitten heel.
9) I don't know that I'm cut out for selling clothes as I don't think I'm a very convincing liar in the fitting rooms. While colleagues are able to tactfully suggest an alternative colour or size, I have been known to do the plumber's whistle (through the teeth, whilst simultaneously shaking my head), followed by closing the fitting room door and walking away laughing.
10) It's retail. *eye roll*
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not being a snob about people who choose retail as a career. If you don't mind working unsociable hours on pay that blows, good on you. I just don't have the patience or desire to massage the egos of high-maintenance American women who have a vocabulary of precisely one phrase, which is applied to seemingly every item in the store, "Oh my god, that ... is so cute!" Seriously, poor old Roget would rotate in his resting place.
I am looking for alternative employment, but currently there is little out there in the events industry. I guess there are always the fail-safe options of being a cleaner, and/or sex-line operator. After all, people always need clean houses and apparently the novelty of a British accent still just doesn't wear thin. Maybe I could combine them into some kind of slutty Mary Poppins character? I kid, of course - it would be wholly inappropriate to utilise a Disney character in the sex industry, except for Jessica Rabbit and The Little Mermaid - everyone knows they've been around the block a few times.
One piece of good news is that I am now officially a Legal Permanent Resident of the USA. All my paperwork is complete and I am free to travel as I please with no more waterboarding from Bertha in a side room at the DHS. OK, so I wasn't actually exposed to waterboarding, but I always thought it sounded kind of fun; like boogie-boarding, or skateboarding - and what's more fun than water sports?
So I leave you - little ray of effing sunshine that I am - and will resume my job search with renewed vigour, having offloaded all my negative energy onto you, my faithful reader. Cheers for that.
