It gives me the greatest pleasure to begin this post with: I HAVE A JOB!! I don’t mean a ‘job’. It’s not an internship. I don’t volunteer, and I don’t ‘work’ ‘freelance’ from my home office aka boyfriend’s sofa. My unpaid work has paid off and somewhere along the line someone deemed me ‘so bright and on the ball’ (shush!) and I’m going to be paid for my 9-5.30 now.
I’m employed! Just call me Editorial Assistant for an online fashion magazine yep it’s not just a job, it’s basically my dream job. So much so it may have even been worth being dumped by the MediNazis in London, paying rent on a flat I don’t live in and moving in with a real life boy. My new title outweighs it all
Day to day is writing, playing with dresses and the odd photo shoot. Oh yes! I got to go to a photo shoot- imagine how well I pulled off the ‘I’m cool, I’ve been to hundreds of shoots and mingled with models’ look..
It really is like TV: the photographer really does shout ‘yes, yes, the camera loves you, ooh I love it, work it’ and no-one bats an eyelid. Except me who had to keep running to make tea because it was too funny to hear as a mere mortal. Talking of which the models aren’t. Mere mortals that is. They really are stunning- and have waists the size of my wrist. Not my ankle. My ankles are sadly bigger than said model’s waist. But she wasn’t mean. She was very lovely, and ate like normal people (well ish. She’d just had her teeth whitened – obviously dahhling- so she couldn’t eat anything sugary or drink the very milky tea I proudly presented her with between six and a hundred times!).
Talking of food: They bought sushi. They ordered it in and thought I’d be suitably impressed with free and trendy food. I was not. Normally I’d lie and be polite, but I have high hopes that this job will last longer than the last (three weeks shouldn’t be too hard!) and I’m not sure I can force down fish for that long. I got Katsu curry don’t worry tho it hasn’t all gone to my head I’m still stupid- everyone ate with chop sticks so I followed suit. I don’t know why I followed suit, I struggle with cutlery at times. So of course I ended up with my dinner down me. And the model nomming on seaweed next to me. She didn’t notice. But later I heard the stylist tell her off for having to have rice brushed out of her hair…
Things are looking up and as much as I an not loving the commute (Northern trains suck you have to stand the whole way, I’m currently balanced half on some unfortunate woman’s knee and half on someone’s luggage, whilst trying to direct my nose away from the armpit that keeps finding my face) I do love the job. And heck I’m employed. Which for graduates is a bloody big deal. So… When the free portion of my role is up and I’m raking it in (let me believe this for a bit- I’m excited!) the drinks are on me! In exchange for chop stick lessons so I am not rejected from the money providing role for being a complete nonce/ attacking models with Japanese cuisine perhaps…
(employed) rat over and out -x-