Ok, so this year started with fireworks. I lost my boyfriend, job, self-respect and a few kilos. I don't even have any more weight to lose; I'm one of those skinny bitches who barely walks. But the best part, right after being heartbroken and depressed is job hunting in this state of mind. Looking for a job in any mood is soul-crushing, but being skinny and sad with no money is simply asking for some pity. I utterly hate looking for a job, because every time I do so, I realize that I have no skills. I have few talents but they are useless in everyday life. Let's have a look at the jobs I can do with my theatre degree: I still have an acting studio and auditions so my future amazing job has to go well with my non-existing schedule. Looking for: flexible, part-time job.
Acting. If you are an actress, why won't you work in the movies or in the theatre? Oh, I wish it would be so bloody easy. Try to be the foreign actress in London with no agent and no money. There are so many opportunities for me. Like, for example, being an extra once a year or maybe some work in an unpaid student production. No one said it's going to be easy, so fuck it. There is no rest for the wicked.
Bar work! I can make decent drinks. Oh, there is a pub next to my place, let's check it. Are you willing to work 12 hours shifts, for a minimum wage with monthly payments? Say yes! Oh, hell no. Maybe I've lost my self-respect, but still, the leftovers have something to say about it. As much as I love feeling superior to drunk people, you kind of lose your faith in humanity after a while.
What else can I do? Waitress? I did that too. To be honest, I am useless as a waitress; cannot hold plates properly, because I have no strength whatsoever in my arms; super clumsy with food. Sounds like excuses, true. I just don't like this job. It's not a terrible position, but you have to know all the tricks. I was never willing to learn them.
Modelling. Not pretty or tall enough, unless you are promoting a line of clothes for hobbits. I couldn’t even do that, too skinny.
Babysitting. Kids like me and I sort of like them too. Sort of. It's not the children I'm scared of, it's the parents. I have a short temper; I was raised with respect for my parents and older people; when I see a spoiled brat with no respect for anyone, it boils my blood with pure rage. And seeing parents treating their offspring like one of the kind, untouchable porcelain makes no sense to me. Seriously, you are raising future sociopaths. Just saying.
I don't mind working hard, but I will never clean houses again. It was an utterly degrading experience. I was crying after every shift. Cleaning others people shit for 8 pounds per hour with no gratitude or decent treatment. No, thank you.
I like distributing leaflets. I have no idea why, but I enjoy it. People feel sorry for me, so they're trying to help. Unfortunately, there was this story when I worked from 6 AM for like 5 hours, in the freezing cold, and they didn't pay me for it. It was for the exclusive cancer clinic. It wasn't charity. So I ended up with a cold and no money. Oh, the irony.
Usher. I am already ushering in two places, and still not able to pay my rent. Once a week shift for 4 hours is a pretty bold way to provide for yourself in London. Still, I recommend this job for people who like to do a little in the creative environments.
Foodservice. Never again. I worked in the canteen of one of the skyscrapers in the Canary Wharf and that was an experience. I don't know what I hated more — permanent staff working there, which treated this job as the most important ever, and the way you put cucumber in this freaking sandwich could start a war. Or maybe the customers, who are supposed to be smart people but were lacking the common sense to the point where I was impressed how they survived their life. Or maybe the food waste. I could tell you many stories about that place.
I am picky, but in the end, it's all about people. I believe that you can work with interesting, respectful and inspiring humans. It's just hard to find. I worked in so many places, starting with the warehouse finishing on the film set, which was the closest to what I want to do. In all of those places, I've met at least one person who was simply incredible. I was always wondering what the hell you, a beautiful person, are doing here? Then it stroked me: the same as I, trying to survive. It is so heartbreaking, just wanting to survive. We deserve more, as a people. I am just a silly romantic with a huge faith, so I will trust in the universe and try to survive now, to enjoy later. And now, I will eat my carrot, listen to the Depressing Playlist and Google for the weirdest jobs. Good luck to all of you, sad job hunters.