Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Another Wednesday

I am exhausted. This week I am in a temping job which is sucking my soul out with a blunt syringe. I have tried a few things to cope. I have tried ignoring it, hoping it will go away. I have tried thinking happy thoughts. I have tried cheese twists (with mustard on them). Nothing works, and I fear that my options are diminishing rapidly.

(I am watching Top Gear. I find Richard Hammond curiously alluring and the cars shiny but inexplicable.)

I have a gig on Monday, as a result of the other gig we did a few weeks ago in Kilburn. My head has been whirling all day with songs, but now I'm home all I can seem to have the energy to do is sit, blog, ignore the television and be elbowed by the dog.

(I am at my parents' house, even though I now have a home of my own in Brixton. It lies empty. I have to wait until the weekend to get any of my stuff there. I still don't have a bed.)

(Jeremy Clarkson is being witty but irritating. My big sister will be round in a bit. My Mum is cooking nice things with prawns in. The dog appears to be licking a sofa cushion.)

I have nothing to write except for disparate nothings. Temping is horrible and it makes me cross and really rather void of personality.

The phone is ringing, and I have to go and do something to negate the hours I have spent staring hopelessly at spreadsheets today. Spreadsheets are not my friends.

A glass of red wine sits waiting for me so I will drink it and spur myself to do something productive. Hang on, let me find some enthusiasm.

Now I have found some! My sister is here! I will put the depression of temping and the pressure of lost productivity behind me, set the table and go and relax.

UPDATE:

It is just after six thirty in the morning. I am staring down the barrel of another whole day in a job the very thought of which makes me want to throw up. I can't decide what to wear because I don't own much suitable for the firey pits of hell (smart casual).

Last night I could barely even talk from horror at the thought of having to get up this morning. I made a phonecall, hung up after a meagre five minutes because I had nothing to say that wouldn't have just sounded like a series of high-pitched wails about my pathetic excuse for a life. I don't want to inflict that on my friends so instead I must turn to the Internet.

This job, it would appear, has brought out the drama queen in me. Never very far from the surface anyway, she has emerged in full regalia, bursting with anguish.

Today I will try to refuse to be paralysed by this, try to use every spare minute to plan and make changes. It is difficult, though, because I feel for all the world like a train just hit me.

8 Comments:

Anonymous Planethalder said...

Ah, you're at your parents' home - hence all the TV. I always watch loads of crappy TV at my parents' and don't even feel guilty. It's wonderful!

9:55 pm

 
Blogger Dancinfairy said...

Wow, that sounds like a bad temping job. I hope that the thought of actually moving into a new place, albeit slightly empty and bed-less will hope you cope with dull old spreadsheets.

I suggest typing weird sentences into them somewhere so people will only find them when you are gone. Or maybe never at all.

12:32 pm

 
Blogger Ys said...

Aww I'm sorry the job's sucking the life out of you. How long have you got left?

I thought you'd be hyped about your new place by now. Damn jobs always ruin everything, don't they?

1:40 pm

 
Blogger Clarissa said...

Post details of gigs. We want to watch and throw our knickers up to you.

6:48 pm

 
Blogger Miss Devylish said...

Oh the woes of temping. I used to despise it til I found something real. But your real job is performing and I hope something comes of that soon sugar.. or at least you find a temp thing that doesn't turn your stomach so. Maybe there's a magical pony in a drawer somewhere?

3:38 pm

 
Blogger greavsie said...

Yes, give us dates for your gigs - I want to see Clarissa throw her knickers :-)

ps deep breaths on the anguish

8:20 am

 
Anonymous Anonymous said...

you make no note of the fact Richard Hammond's hair is going through a terrible mid life crisis or that he is beginning to resemble Keira Knightley

4:49 pm

 
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