TEA & BISCUITS

While I wait for the imminent lottery win, I popped into Iceland for some teabags. I couldn’t help noticing the 5-pack of 4-finger KitKats for £1. I don’t even eat chocolate but at that price I might start.

The work situation is so dire I’ve been casting my net a bit wider. Every day I look through Brand Republic, Guardian Jobs and all the others. I’ve been hitting ‘apply’ to creative vacancies everywhere. Two recruitment agencies have phoned regarding permanent jobs. One in Northampton, the other in Dubai. I grew up in Northamptonshire and I’ve been to Dubai a few times. Two of the most undesirable places to live in my book, but I guess if I have to up sticks and leave my home, it may as well be sunny. Fingers crossed for Dubai then.
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THE SECRET

The three days work last week were good. It was great being back in town and working for a grown up agency (although I did hear someone use the word ‘fandabidozee’).

No more work on the horizon though. I phoned round all the recruitment agencies again today. It was the usual story. No one answered apart from one, who asked me why I sounded so despondent.

Someone recommended that I read a book called 'The Secret'. I’ve heard of it before. It’s about manifesting what you want in life. Once only known by an elite few scholars who were unwilling to share their knowledge of ‘the secret’ to obtaining anything you desire, this woman has discovered it and is now kindly revealing it to all and sundry in the form of a book that costs 12 quid.

Although it’s not a very long book, it’s 12 quid well spent because it’s so easy. All you have to do is think about what you want. Think about it hard and REALLY believe that you’re going to get it. Picture yourself with all that you desire and really believe in it. Keep doing this for a while and apparently the universe will give it to you. Simple as that.

Bloody brilliant. Forget the job. I REALLY believe I’m going to win the lottery.
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WADIN' UP WEST IN ME WELLIES

I managed to get into town on Tuesday. The snow was really deep. I’ve never seen anything like it in London. It reminded me of when I went to New York at Christmas. Apart from the lack of snow ploughs clearing it.

There were four trains an hour but the tubes were still chaos so I walked to Tottenham Court Road in the snow. I’ve had three days work now, filling in for someone who’s on holiday. Designing, artworking, eating Hula Hoops – whatever needs doing. It’s nice to feel human again.
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SNOWED UNDER

I couldn’t believe it.

My first day’s work this year and I’m snowed in. This is the scene that greeted me at the station this morning. The whole country has ground to a halt.

Apparently it’s not the wrong kind of snow this time. There’s just too much of it.
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A POEM

The phone rang today – it was my good friend Pippy.

She asked me to work Monday and I said YIPEEE!!!

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A LESSON LEARNED

I spoke to my friend Lucy today. She’s been working on Super Yachts for a couple of years. In the Med in the summer, and the Caribbean in our winter.

I went on her yacht a couple of times last summer. Once in Cannes and once in Majorca when there were no guests on board – just the 16 crew. It seemed like a great life. Fun people and eternal sunshine.

It got me thinking at the time, and I’ve been thinking about it more while 
I’m sitting here staring at a silent phone and listening to doom and gloom on the news. So I emailed Lucy to see if she could get me a job on the yacht. Cleaning, doing the laundry – I don’t care what. It’s good money and it’s 
tax free.

But she phoned today to say she’d lost her job. It seems the credit crunch is even affecting the super rich yachting fraternity. She had two weeks notice and had to get off in St Maarten, where she’s now hanging out, looking for another job.

I'm in the home counties, freezing my proverbials off looking forward to hitting the dole queue tomorrow. No prizes for guessing where I’d rather be out of work. If only I’d spent less time investing in Topshop and The Crown & Two Chairmen, and more time investing in ISA’s when I had the chance, I too could be unemployed in St Maarten.
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TEQUILA

Oh Tequila, Tequila. Lovely Tequila. Why did I ever leave you?!!

I worked there for almost 10 years. In that building in Dean Street, Soho, 
with it’s own bar and brilliant location. The friends, the laughs, the parties, 
the cheesy Wotsits. We even did some work. What ever possessed 
me to leave it all behind for a pantomime in the provinces, only to be made redundant 9 months later.

I went to the Tequila Bar last night for a leaving do. I’ve been back a lot since I left and it always feels so familiar and nice. I had a chat with the powers that be. No freelancers allowed at the moment – credit crunch and all that. No full timers needed either.

Today I just feel angry. Angry that I left a good agency for a not so great agency with a total disregard for anything other than the next pack flash.

I rang the dole. Apparently I can do a rapid reclaim.
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