I think I've run out of things to say again. I went through a very brief phase of mild intelligence and productivity and I've hit a wall once more. I've been scribbling lots of secrets in my notebook but they're far too 'out there' to put on here. It'd break the internet. I guess I should say that if anyone is even reading this, you should get a ticket for the Chuck Ragan show if you haven't already. Don't be a dick, it's going to be amazing. One thing I did want to broadcast to the world is that I don't get paid anywhere near enough to see my supervisor in her underwear. I'm moving house very soon. YEAH!
Friday, 12 March 2010
'Slacking' isn't the word. The weather's been beautiful and I think I've lost my mind a little preaching the arrival of summer like it's the second coming. I've worked a lot more than usual this week which is good because I need the money to move house but frustrating when the sun's out and all you want to do is get out and play. A work experience girl, Katy, has been in all week. She's fifteen and refreshingly naïve. She's been learning lots about products and the way the shop works so I thought being the second youngest and undoubtedly the most streetwise badass in the shop, I should give her a few life lessons. We talked a lot about drugs. It's truly terrifying what people think is a good idea these days. I took particular delight in seeing her terrified little face when I related some truly awful drug mishaps, most of which I think I made up, but whatever. It scared the shit out of her. Good.