Shoes and Madness

Guess what?

I got a job!

I know I said that I am enjoying not working. And I am. But I had to have this job. My girlfriends will understand....because it is in my favourite shoe shop!

It is quite possibly the best job in the world (particularly as at the moment I haven't actually started, and therefore have not yet had my rose tinted spectacles stamped upon). I only have to work 12 hours a week across 2 days which are when the children are school and I can walk there. But most importantly - I get a staff discount, and even more excitingly I am allowed - nay, encouraged - to try out wearing all the shoes in the shop whilst I am working! I can wear said shoes for up to an hour (any longer and the wear will show), so that I am able to tell customers about them, and also because apparently customers often buy shoes they have seen staff wearing. Potentially, I could wear up to 6 pairs of gorgeous shoes a day!

Me - trivial? Never!

Course the other upside is that I will also have money to spend on more shoes and other frivolities which I am fed up of explaining to Andrew....

In discussions with the manager about my employment, we talked a little about the change of life I had experienced (not THAT change of life! for goodness sake - I'm not even 40 yet!) in terms of working, and how I was looking for something that wouldn't be stressful and would not encroach on my family time. She took me to task on this, saying that this was a mistake people often made, thinking that selling shoes wasn't stressful when it is. Although I'm sure there will be times when I will feel under a certain amount of pressure, I feel quite certain that

a. no one will take out a full page add in the local paper demanding that I resign
b. no one will arrange a public meeting at which I will be harangued for providing a sub standard service despite the fact that I am trying my bloody best

and

c. the local catholic priest will not be asking his congregation to pray that me and my colleagues are sacked

Given all that, I think I am comfortable with whatever stress shoe selling might throw at me.

Now I am totally removed from all that, I wonder if people ever wondered what all that was like for those of us who were publicly villified for doing a job which we were told to do and then hung out to dry by the people who told us to do it. I got to the stage where I couldn't allow the Lymington Times into my house - reading it made me feel sick and panic stricken. Fronting those meetings, although I may have looked confident, possibly arrogant, at times, was a torturous experience. The only way to get through it was to grit your teeth, and be as robust as possible, and hope that no one was going to attack you in the car park on your way out. Interesting times - and definitely not an experience I care to repeat....

Anyway - I digress!

Exciting times in the Pettifer household continue - remember that George was on TV with the quiz show 'It's Academic' and they got through to the semi finals? Well, they filmed the semis on Tuesday, and they won again, getting through to the Grand Final next week! And there lies a story.

First I have to ask -

Is it normal to have to lay sobbing on the bed because you can't find your black baseball cap?

I thought not.

And yet that is what I was doing on Tuesday morning at about 7.30am.

It all started quite well - we had to get George to school for 6.40am sharp, so we got up at 5.30am, got all ready, went out to the car.....and it wouldn't start. It also refused to be jump started. I got agitated. I couldn't get hold of anyone, and I couldn't get hold of a cab firm. If George missed the bus, I would never forgive myself. Eventually, one of our lovely neighbours lent us their campervan, and Andrew and George roared off to Dee Why, getting to the bus just as they were deciding they couldn't wait another moment. All's well that ends well.

In the meantime though, I was trying to get Anna off to school by bus. I admit I was overwrought, and ok - yes - I was premenstrual, but Anna had failed to clean her teeth ('you didn't tell me to clean my teeth!' OMG aaaaagggghhhh), and I could not find the black cap I needed to disguise my very bad hair day while I was at the gym, and suddenly I found myself careering around the house bellowing hysterically that 'I just want to wear my black cap!!!!'. Anna was wide eyed and not sure what to make of it, and by the time Andrew was back I was clearly in need of medical attention, or at the very least a lay down on the bed and a bit of a cuddle while I got it all out of my system.

I tell you this, not because I think you will be interested, but because I thought you should all know that despite it being great out here, and possibly the most inspired thing we have ever done, there are still seriously crap days. Some of which have declined beyond all hope of repair by 7.30 in the morning. I hope this makes you all feel better.

However, has anyone got the number of a good psychiatrist?