5 Completely Shameless

The rumour at work has been that I'm there on a secret mission. That I'm just pretending to be a medical secretary, all the while taking notes on the scandals going on so I can then make a documentary about it. Like the one that was done about the police. I'd be doing the dentist version.

There are two issues with this. Firstly, I like to think that if I was there as a spy, I'd do a better job of it so they wouldn't actually know I was spying. The second one is that I'm not sure how much scandal there is in oral surgery. I certainly haven't heard any. Not even a whiff of the wrong tooth being taken out.

Often when you work in TV, many people think that means you can do anything in TV. As if I turn up and just turn my hand to whatever I'm asked to do that day. You want me to film? Sure. Read the news? No problem. Be the Best Boy? Easy.

I think my work colleagues must also think like that as despite knowing I'm in docs, they asked me today if I've been in Shameless.

Shameless? Why on earth would they think that? I felt quite put-out. Do I look like I would have been? Is it the way I dress? Is it my hair? Or even worse, maybe they don't think I acted in it but instead that I live by the Chatsworth estate and have just been caught on camera while going about my daily business.

Turns out it was all just a misunderstanding. A former Shameless actress is rumoured to be working in the hospital and as I work in TV they decided (hoped) it was obviously me!

I can just imagine...Single white female seeks position as a medical secretary. Lots of relevant experience from previous jobs as an actress and spy.

2 Bully For Me

I think this is going to have to be renamed 'Tales from the Cupboard that is Masquerading as an Office' (that's definitely cupboard, not closet by the way). I know it doesn't quite have the same ring to it, but since I started this temp job I feel as though I'm never flipping here!

The job does have some plus points though. For a start I'm now up in time to see the sunrise from my bedroom window. And as well as that there's........erm.......come on there must be something...... think....... think............ok, that's the only plus point but Manchester really does have some lovely sunrises.

Day one was actually ok (which is high praise indeed when its coming from me, and I'm talking about temp jobs), once I'd got over that feeling of being a child at a new school that is. 'Please Miss, I don't know what to do.''Please Miss, can I go the toilet?' In fact where are the toilets? 'Please Miss, can you check my work?' 'Please Miss, did I spell mandibular and maxillary correctly?' I did? 'Please Miss, can I get a gold star then?'

I'd also only been there all of five minutes when I discovered one of the consultants is friends with my dentist (I'm working in oral surgery so this was quite a normal conversation to have.) What is weird though, is that he's friends with my dentist in Scotland. All very coincidental and bizarre, but surely it meant I had an immediate ally and he wouldn't let any of the other kids bully me?

Turns out that being the new girl meant that I was actually a source of interest to the other kids and no-one wanted to give me a dead arm anyway. They clamoured round me in the playground and wanted to know everything, in particular about life in the Tower. What famous people live there? Have I see them? Does the Tower sway in the wind? How long does the lift take? And the biggie, do I get to go to the Hilton bar, Cloud 23, lower down in the Tower without queuing?

All too soon, day two comes though. Day two when you're expected to know what you are doing. Day two when you are old news. Day two when no-one is interested in talking to you anymore and you end up eating your lunch in the girls toilets wishing you'd at least pretended you get VIP access to Cloud 23.

On day two I also got a bit of training on their computer systems. The trainer wanted to get me prepared for what to do in 18 weeks when I'd need to change my password. 18 weeks? 18 weeks?! I don't think I've ever worked anywhere for 18 weeks. That's like forever. I started feeling myself hyperventilate....

Then I got a call. From a TV company. I couldn't answer it but felt myself immediately relaxing. Surely it was about a job and I'd be able to leave without even doing 18 hours, never mind weeks? I listened to the voicemail at the first opportunity. Please be about a job...please be about a job...please....!

It wasn't about a job. Well it was, but just a little one I'm doing for them this weekend. Nothing that required me to pack up my satchel and shout to the other kids 'See ya, wouldn't want to be ya,' and strop out before the bell had rung.

So looks like I'm there for the foreseeable future. Don't worry I'll be fine. Not sure when I'm meant to fit in all my dates though (the ones I'm bound to start having soon), never mind tell you about them. Work doesn't half cut in to your day.