renza
Whenever I go past one particular office building in Edinburgh I am filled with dread and reminded of the worst two months of my life - working a job where I was a nervous wreck, hated those around me and hated the nature of the role. I wish I could tear that building down...
You won't amount to anything. You'll just be an average, ordinary woman who does an average ordinary job. You'd think someone had said this to me but it's what I tell myself every day and it's unhealthy. You are what you make of yourself. You just need some degree, some amount of confidence and you can bullshit your way through anything.
We are all made of carbon apparently. Do not ask me the specifics of this scientific fact. I actually have no clue. We could be made of donkey dung and God's farts as much as I know. My scientific knowledge is really quite poor. I'm more of a history and English literature girl...
I woke up one morning, stepped out of bed and felt a massive weight pull me down. I tried to proceed with my day, good dressed and headed to work. Whilst there I couldn't fathom why no one could see it, why know one would help me. Surely someone would help me remove this weight chaining me down...
Diving into a fresh, clean, large bed when you are quite as tired as I am right now is like giving yourself one big hug. It is the king of comforts and I'm quite sure laptops were invented to enhance this enjoyable experience. Hot chocolate plus laptop plus bed equals heaven.
'Don't you dare touch my bags'. I struggled into the hotel lobby with my hefty bags and gave the porter the evil eye. I had been in the country for only a few days and already I had had to tip the taxi man, the waitress, the maid, the man who let me hold an alligator... Maybe I should start tipping anyone who has the decency to say hello. Bloody Americans...
I cannot get beyond that zone. The city has become a place where a person of my social position cannot rise above where I belong. There might as well be a gated community dividing the no-name nobodies and the fabulous somebodies.
Can we talk about 'Banksy'? I'm not sure I want to discuss banks. I work for one. In a call centre. There is a job to drain your soul. Money is a dirty business. Talking about it is filthy. I dream of a day where I am not taking calls...