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.

9 That's Why They Call it Work

I'm really not sure about this working malarkey.

It takes up far too much time. I mean when am I meant to live my life?

What about my gym sessions? I'm never going to be able to stretch enough to regain my missing inch at this rate. What about my man search? Ive got profiles to wade through. I've got emails from small-endowed men to ignore. I've got bases to get to. I've got dates to go on. These things take time. I don't feel my temp agency thought this through properly. Either that or they just don't care.

Fact is that I've no time to work. Particularly not on a job like this one.

It just doesn't stimulate me. And as I'm a firm believer that life is too short to be filled with tedium, as early as day two I started fantasising about how I could leave.

Obviously I needed an excuse. I mean what if I want to do another boring temp job in the future? I want the agency to know how diligent and reliable I am. I needed an excuse and it would have to be a good one.

The best I came up with was contracting an illness, but I realised that plan had it's flaws. Mainly, that as well as being unable to work, I'd also be unable to do anything else.

I decided to take another approach. Instead of working out how to leave, I needed to work out how to stay.

What would motivate me to stick with this job? There is no hot doctor for me to wile away many an hour fantasising about his bedside manner. I needed some other reason to turn up to the hospital every day.

Then I got it! It was obvious! Can't believe I didn't think about it before!

I'd go on holiday!

If I managed to last the contract, I'd use the money I'd made to take myself on a trip. Somewhere hot. I haven't been on holiday for ages (the three and a half weeks in Greece were for work. Soooo not the same thing). It was a great idea!

I phoned my mum, all excited, to tell her about my brainwave. She thought it was inspired. Well what she actually said was... 'Let me get this right...you think you deserve to go on holiday if you manage to work for a mere four weeks?' Pretty obvious she was behind it all the way.

So seven days in (and counting) and I'd actually been ok. Whenever I felt like slitting my wrists with the letter opener, I'd just turn my thoughts to lying on the beach. It was easy. I mean ok, I'm not even half-way yet. Still another thirteen days to go, but I could do this. Only thirteen days. Thirteen days.

Then my temp agency called.

Agency - Just want to talk about what days you would like to work around Christmas time?
Me - Christmas? Erm isn't this job only for four weeks?
Agency - Yes, but they think you are doing a great job and would like you to stay on.

Bugger!

1 Doctor Doctor

I've got a job. Starting tomorrow. If you thought that would put a smile on today's miserable face, then you'd be sadly mistaken. Note the lack of exclamation marks.

It's because it isn't a real job. Not a TV one I mean. It's a temp job. At a hospital. A needs must kind of thing.

It could be a bit of a game for my friends when I tell them I've got work...is it temp or telly?..hot or cold?...higher or lower? It could be a game if it wasn't so obvious from my voice which one. When it's TV work I'm hyper and they can't always make out what I'm saying. My temp work voice is monotone. Bless my friends though, they always try and put a positive slant on it for me and remind me how it's some money coming in (barely) and how it will get me out of the flat (have they seen where I live, I could happily never leave?!) and how I might meet a nice doctor.

Now I'm interested to know, has anyone ever met a fit doctor? Do they exist, aside from in TV programmes? I've temped in hospitals before and have never met a Dr McDreamy or McSteamy. Not even a 'they could sort of pass for one of them... if you squint.' Mind you, my hospital jobs have tended to see me sitting in rooms the size of cupboards, typing up notes about ear wax and old men's bowel examinations. No doctors to be seen. Good-looking or otherwise.

I'm going to be positive about this though. I mean it's a bit of money coming in. It'll get me out of the flat. And you never know, I might meet a nice young doctor.

1 Chickpeas

And just to clarify...I didn't turn down work to meet a guy for coffee. That would be foolhardy!

The job was in London starting on Monday and I'd only been called about it on Friday. Actually I don't know why I'm mentioning when I got the call cause the short notice wasn't relevant either. I'm used to that. It was that it was for 5 weeks and with no expenses being paid (as in relocating expenses - of course there was a wage!) Being the wise woman that I am I weighed up the pros and cons and decided that paying rent here as well as down there it would get that it wasn't worth it. And before you tell me that you have a friend I could have stayed with for a pittance and I've made a big mistake blah blah, I should add that I've tried living in London before. I love doing shoots there where you go and get put up in a hotel so when I got offered a 3 month job there and I was just back from travelling with no other prospects, I decided to give it a go. Turns out that when living in London, I'm a miserable bitch!! I hated the travel on top of the already long days and a lot more besides. I lasted two weeks.

So when I don't get any work in the next 5 weeks and am surviving on chickpeas can you remind me of my reasons for not taking the job and that Manchester is much more me. You could also perhaps invite me around for dinner involving something other than chickpeas...
And it goes without saying that if I end up moving to London in the near future, we never had this conversation...