The red wine is a-warming, my king-size, half-price, saturated-fat filled, fresh (yes, FRESH, my people) supermarket Pepperoni Pizza is a-waiting, the oven is a-heating up. Yes, folks Friday night is here. It's also 'Home Alone' time, which means drowning me sorrows time. If there's one good reason why I KNOW I'll never make it back onto primetime telly is cos I'm 'FAT' (in TV circles anyway) I'm not a Size 6, 8, 10, 12 or 14. So in fact, I'm ENORMOUS,. Couple that with being 'dark-skinned' and not even vaguely 'exotic' looking and it's clear that my career is washed up.
Yes I know the wine and the pizza doesn't exactly help but it's all comfort food, innit? Shout me down if you like but I've done the whole 'Hire a Personal Trainer and eat lettuce leaves until your stomach wants to have you arrested for severe neglect' thing.... and it AINT pretty, OK? Just leaves you gagging for a flipping KFC after every training session. And there's one on every flipping street corner so there's NO chance.
I got offered some holiday cover work today - could be one shift a month, then it could be 4 double-shifts in a week....I wont hold my breath but it's also nice to hear that my skills & experience are valued and that they did want to use me....
I'm so desperate, I wasted money on one of my old demons. I got that rush again. Of betting and imagining what I was going to do with the winnings before I'd even played the game. Sh*t really. £50 down the pan that I could have spent on food. I'm such a loser.
PS If you hate the self-pity, then go find yourself another blog to read
I'm liking my drink too much. I guess the cheap price of booze, having a brilliant offie with a dangerous selection of smooth, deep New World reds 5 mins up the road away, being out of work and being depressed are a lethal combination. Not even feeling poorly stops me. No wonder my skin#s f***ed.
I been musing about going to see the doctors. I can hear the conversation now
Doc - So what seems to be the problem?
Me - My skin has been having a constant outbreak of spots for the last 3 months
Doc - Are you under any stress at all
Me - Well I just paid the Tax Man my life savings, I'm broke as f*ck and there's no sign of any meaningful, regular work on the horizon
Doc - Ahh, I see. Have you changed your diet or skin care regime lately?
Me - Well if you mean, have I been stuffing more satured fatty foods down my neck, not exercising and downing my weekly allowance of alcholic units every night solid for the last 3 months - then NO not really
Doc - Ok well here's a prescription for enough Tamezpan to fry your brains for 6 months - in the unlikely event you want to get a repeat prescription, speak to the General Medical Council. Goodbye.
You get the picture :-/
I'm talking to God much more now - I'm hoping he can help me out.
It's been a while. I've been ill. Not just sick of being out of work but physically sick. In fact someone is trying to strangle me. Nope, NOT paranoid delusions, just the cold I've got is all up in my head and is constricting my throat. Fed up.
I got an interview with a college to do some part-time hours of lecturing. Left my sick bed, travelled the 60 or so miles (am I obsessed with mileage? maybe I am) to the job interview, had to do a fake teaching session (!) and interview in front of 3 men. Got home and promptly threw up cos the cold licked my chest so hard, I took to my bed the whole night.
So they offered me the job today - they gotta check I dont mess around with kids, and to this day I dont know how many hours they will need me to do, how much they will pay me. Do I sound ungrateful? I was desperate when I applied - no change since but I'm disappointed cos I'm not dead yet. Teaching is what i thought I might be doing once I'd had a couple of kids, say 6 years down the line. Not NOW when I'm in my media prime. But desperation wins. Hands down.
That guy from the radio job never returned my calls - WTF is going on in this world. Is it wise to drive 250 miles for £350? Not bad, is it really - doing that next week for a little job, praise the almighty lord.
I applied for 4 other jobs as well - all of them at least 100 miles away from my home.
I got a killer programme idea though - just gotta get hold of the chick it centres around - easier said than done but I'm going to fight, fight, fight, fight, fight for this idea (damn Cheryl Cole)
There's a glimmer of hope on the horizon. Someone has finally taken me seriously. Someone is prepared to take a chance on me. Why is it I have to persuade everyone I'm worth having? It's frustrating, isn't it but I'm sure media ain't the one place this happens? Ideas are in motion - could take months and months and months and I hope the momentum doesn't wane but a reputable and successful company want me to front some new ideas for them. Wish me luck. It damn sure ain't the end of the road. Got 2 other TV job applications to finish next week whilst I'm home alone ALL WEEK *sniff sob*. Need to keep myself busy busy bus busy. I feel a little brighter. Thanks for caring. Thanks for asking. Thanks for reading :-)
Welcome. To. My. Blog: THIS IS THE BBC ONLINE. BBC stands for. Black. British. Chick. For. I. Am. Thus. I. Am. English. I. Work. In. The. Media. I. Am. A. Seasoned. Professional. I. Am. Also. A Cynic. A Critic. A Straight Talker. A Game Player. A Bitter. Hardened. Hater. A. Bitch. A. Lover. A. Fighter. A. Joker. And. A. Woman. Of. Many. Words. Thoughts. Hopes. And. Fears. For. Herself. And. Her. Fellow. Black. Woman. Herein. Lies. Lots. Of. Fury. And. Love.