Friday, 29 January 2010


My path isn't anyone else's BUT mine and I have to carve my own. I have to keep believing that today  - after my friend's travelling news from yesterday knocked me out of the game for a while, I'm fighting back.

I can only imagine how much harder for people who have no job, no money, are losing their home. I feel a level of despair I've never felt before and of course my pain feels absolute but I know others are hurting more. At least I'm waiting on a check to come through. I have nothing to sell, not even any gold to cash (like that fabulous black chick in the advert with Dale Winton. She got that American 'headfllick, finger click' thing going on as she says it but you know damn well she's from Fulham - or somewhere. LMAO)

I had a call today - I sent an email off to a radio job ad - as you do, you send it without thinking cos 99.99% of people NEVER REPLY. But this guy RANG. Looking for a new presenter, 'I'm right up his street, he said 'but I'm possibly OVER qualified...'. You read right 'OVER QUALIFIED'. WTF??????? He said 'I will probably be TOO expensive for them, might blow their budget'. I asked him what his budget was and he wouldn't say. How flipping difficult, eh? I mean not HIM being difficult but how difficult to gauge.... :-((.  Plus I'd have to drive 175 miles a DAY round trip for the job. But good to immerse myself back in radio and have a laugh to boot. Might just be my ticket to an even bigger job back in radio. He told me to think about it, come up with a figure for pay and bell him on Monday. Good LORD? Any clues - shall I go for it? For now?  Looks like that's my only hope - that and the other TV job way on the other side of England. Believe  - it's only a 6 month contract but as they say BEGGARS can't be choosers.

I wonder how many other people in Britain are trekking miles, doing 2, 3 or 4 bus journeys to get to their second job, that they HATE, just to make ends meet and put food on the table. NUFF, I can imagine, NUFF. I KNOW this. So I have the opportunity to do a job that I love, a drive away and I have a car (the train situation is lousy from home to the radio station) and make some £££. I must be dumb to even not be thinking straight. But desperation makes your mind wonky.

Back in the day when I was MEGA poor and a student, freshy freelance journo that no-one would hire, I wished so hard that I wasn't so fat, cos then I could have got myself a job in a lapdancing club and earned  NUFF. That was desperate. Not so now... I hope!

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