i have the biggest hair in the world. i think too much. my attention span and self discipline need a lot of work. this is why the internet is as good a place as any for the likes of me.
When the tube is packed with rowdy foreign students with M&M world bags
Thanks to @imalicepalace
I am two days into my new job, and I couldn’t be happier. My feet have started hurting again, and I come home shattered, but my days have a purpose beyond getting dinner on the table and attacking the laundry pile, and it feels good.
I think I can safely say my confidence around new people has rocketed since i have been in london. I have been bombarded with new coworkers since I started at the folly, and taken it completely in my stride, whereas upon reflection there was a time when i would have been intimidated by it, have had to take about a month to adjust. I think I’m surprised because my previous positions have been not only on smaller teams, but have also come with that assurance boost of being somewhat in charge, and therefore people have to come to me and talk as part of the job. Here it’s stripped back to basics, I am absolved of seniority, and I am enjoying the fact that people are therefore talking to me because of who I am, what I am.
I’m already having fun at work, I expected an initial settling in period of anxiety while I figured the place out, but I should have remembered that customers are the same everywhere, people looking for a good time and to be entertained, and that’s what I’m good at. Last night I got talking to a man from the village I was raised in (only people from there can ever recognize my accent), got chatted up by a parisian in a pink shirt who said I was the first english girl he had found sexy, had a really sweet blonde girl tip me a tenner cos she liked my hat, and had a manchester bar owner try to poach me. I must be doing something right. I must already have confidence, be showing it in what I do.
After work I had a smoke with anna, one of the managers, and, drinking a gin, told her about my work history. She remembered me from the pelt trader, when I mentioned it and she noticed my big hair, and she told me she liked my way with customers. I talked frankly about what I wanted for the future, and she told me in no uncertain terms that she thought I’d be a good addition to the team. I like that everyone here speaks so frankly and honestly, I feel like I learn something from everyone, and it makes me confident of an absence of cliques and feuds.
I’m making friends as well, sat out on a smoke break in the alley with anna, a polish girl who looks just like one of my uni friends, a man stopped to ask us, because of our uniform, if we were clowns. We looked at each other, in our all denim, and laughed. I asked him what he was dressed as. He soon left, sheepishly, not understanding the private laughter of twentysomething females, which he ought not to have invoked, plainly unable to handle it. She needed an early finish, I gave her mine, preferring to stay and learn how things are done, preferring, in all honesty, to earn the money, knowing full well that my journey would be no different whatever the time of night.
And at the end of the night, sat on london bridge, looking at the shard, lit up, thinking ‘I remember seeing this from the bus while they were still building it’, I got the feeling, gone for so long, of a job well done, a successful day. I used to be bothered by how much store I set by how I perform at work, used to see it as a personality flaw, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the pride i get from earning a living. The satisfaction of coming home knowing I’ve done something useful, and done it well. There are definitely worse ways to find emotional validation than through your own capability.
Through other people would be one, I think. On that note I have not heard from d in over a week now, and am starting to feel very much like he could take me or leave me. Which isn’t a great way to feel, but in context it makes sense. He’s older than me, set in his ways, and I guess they don’t involve things outside of West London, which I now am. It’s disheartening to have to start feeling like I didn’t mean anything, but I’ve tempted fate in my own ways, like telling him I didn’t know what he got out of it after I’d gotten too drunk and been a mess on the last night out we went on. I’ve made the mistakes, and planted the seeds. I can see his point. And if it does just blow itself out, I won’t be distraught. I made myself vulnerable, no one asked me to. I opened myself up to need and want, and all the complications that arise as a result. It’s easier to deal with situations where I can only hold myself responsible, because it’s easy enough to hold a dialogue about where you fucked up, than start asking whys and wherefores of other people who might not be as forthcoming or honest with answers.
I can feel the days getting colder and shorter already. My lips have already started getting winter dry, and I am taking ever more layers to work with me for the journey home. It always feels like a landscape change, when the seasons shift. Part of it I think, is the impact it has on the structure of the day and the diet, but I also think that as the seasons change I usually manage to shake things off, to push myself without realising it into new phases of existence. Nothing ever feels static with regards my life, that’s one thing I can’t complain about. I mightn’t have a map, but I keep moving regardless.