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!
), 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!
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