Work it baby, work it

As Paula Abdul said back in in 1988 'I take 2 steps forward, I take 2 steps back.' I hear ya Paula, I've been relagated to hopping again, as I managed to fall like a proper OAP down those last few pesky stairs the other day and mangled my ankle. Gutted. Where was that Stenah stairlift when I needed it. I'd started going to the gym and everything. Well I'd dug out my gym 'outfits' from back in the day when I went out with a professional sportsman and pretended I was 'sporty', and joined a local gym for a trial. Mainly I was rocking up looking like I was about to run a marathon then would just sit on various weight machines admiring all those able bodies... Ooh I also started swimming which was brilliant. Especially as I didn't have to use 'The Hoist' as threatened by my induction lady. Anyway fingers crossed I can get back on it soon.

In other news.. I'm having a sort of sliding doors moment (but realising at the same time, so not really then, more of a crossroads. but I was going for a Gweneth Paltrow analogy since i've had my hair cut). I have been offered probably the most harrowing of temp jobs back here. They call it 'market research' but it basically means we sit like battery chickens in little booths calling people who would rather eat their own arm than talk to you. (how would chickens hold a phone?? oh they could wear headsets, fair enough.) All for the dizzying wage of £6 an hour. I had to work it out on a calculator but I think it gives me about 230 a week!! However this would enable me to work up until June and have some cash to go on hols with my friends to Bali (flipping brilliant). But also mean that come June I am jobless, penniless and still living with my parents (oh so bad). The other signpost in this crossroads thing, or tube train if we're back on the sliding doors tip...is that i'm also going to interviews for telly jobs to start asap. This would mean no hol (very sad) but a job and a flat in london (very grown up). So sensible emily is currently in battle with fuck it emily. I'm hoping fuck it emily is gonna kick some ass to be honest. Oh and I met my 'team' today. Oh lordy. A couple of spotty awkward looking students, who couldn't look me in the eye cos i'm a girl, a larger lady who has obviously been doing it for far too long and takes it ridiculously seriously - she showed me a bar graph! And one slightly remidial guy who I'm sure I remember as the weird guy who used to ride the train and threaten to show us his penis on our way to school. Eeek!!

London Calling...sorry, can I pop you on hold?

I've been a little absent from the blog of late as I've been up in London town. Very exciting! I got an actual bus and everything (did you know that us crips ride the bus for free??) I've basically been receiving guests at various locations across town. Much like the Queen. But in better outfits. Marginally... Thank god I have the dynamic of friends that ranges from new mums to out of work tv producers. 'Doing lunch' became my working week - fantastic. I even got back on the fun wagon - and have discovered I'm an even cheaper date than before. I think it took me exactly 0.5 glasses of wine to get pretty smashed - brilliant! So other activities apart from lunching and boozing included a little trip to a sunbed. I know, a bit naughty but I was starting to resemble Gollum from Lord of The Rings so I thought I'd have a go. Easier than it sounds. It was in fact a stand up one, which meant that at one point I was naked with those things over my eyes so i couldnt see where I was going, trying to hobble up with crutches into what is bascially a very hot verticle coffin. Ironically, I thought if I fall this is not the way i want to go. Then I had to stand on one leg for 8 minutes - way harder than it sounds. (Flamingo's - I satute you. )

Anyway, so it was amazing to feel like I was part of society again. Sadly I've been put back to pasture now and am back in the sticks. But after my hospital appointment yesterday have been given the all clear to put 50% weight on my leg. whoop! Although i am currently finding it hard to determine this exact figure as i walk... thats 42...47...50 - bingo. Ooh and I got rid of my boot! Great, but also just makes me look like a massive faker, now i've got no boot or cast. I'm thinking when i get the tube and need a seat i'm gonna have to wear a t shirt with my xray on it. Or get a small but slightly righteous badge like the baby on board ones. 'I am crippled and sad and all alone.... MOVE you fat lazy shit. It's not like you havent sat at your desk all day playing online poker.' Not sure if it would fit though...

Exciting things are afoot tomorrow, I'm heading to bluewater - eek! My mum wants to put me in a motorised scooter that they have there but i'm determined not to look like an elderly lady on her way to John lewis to look at soft furnishings and toasters. Which is exactly what i'll be doing...

Equal Opportunity Knocks

Why do good things happen at the most inappropriate moments? I get a call the other day from BBC Music, who I've been emailing (/boardering on harassment) for roughly about 3 yrs...about what is probably my dream job. And great news, they want to get me in for an interview...bad news - oh yeh I'm a total crip. And very much not able to run around with a camera making telly, let alone also up to my crutches in mud at Glastonbury et al. Gutted. But not one to accept defeat, I decide, like a responsible, grown up, mature woman, to make it up there anyway....er - with my mum. She might as well have given me a lunch box and tied some mittens to my coat. But bless her she chaperoned me all the way up. On an actual train. With actual commuters. It was all very strange. But glad I went. It went ok, even though I felt like a massive try hard..'yeh I'm really passionate about music'...eurgh. As I hobbled into the interview I breezily waved off my broken leg, and claimed Jesus-like revelations of being able to walk in a matter of weeks. However since talking to my friend who works there, I may have massively missed a trick here. They have BIG equal opportunity quotas to fill over there and I am one proud owner of a red cross wheelchair circa '76. This friend was in a meeting the other day and a blind person was guided into the office...by a midget! Damn.

All this work stuff got me thinking, I really need to be earning some sort of cash back here in the sticks. And my mind turned to all those shit jobs me and my mates had back here in the school/uni holidays. These ranged from Christmas Hamper packing (I was on straw and jam...until I developed a rash from the straw and was moved on to pâté), to packing pants for the larger lady (Vanessa..a particular highlight?). And one other fav was envelope stuffing at the local hall. Me and Kath were pretty much regulars...along with Harold, Marge and the other OAP's who we were in direct competition with (they did a count every hour and named and shamed the worst offenders). Obviously me and kath were shit and I think ended up getting fired. Can I just say though that they used to bring their own special water pad thing that enabled a faster finger. Unfair. Anyway, I'm thinking it might be time to prove all those paper cuts weren't made in vein... £50 cash in hand a day aint nothing to grumble at in this current financial (and legless) climate. Let me see those fingers!