Having found full-time employment in a fancy-shmancy resto a couple of weeks back, I now find myself pressed for time to do the smallest things around the house. The dish rack is always full; the fridge is mostly empty with only a few rotting leeks and old block of cheese lying about. Dirty clothes clog the hallway leading to our bedroom and clean clothes hang over every wall heater in the house save one. With the house in such disarray, it's hard to even think of setting aside any "me time".
I have today off of work, but, really, can't even visualize leaving the house. I'd rather be holed up in bed alternately reading and dozing the day away. Well, I suppose that I can do that right after I've put away the clean dishes, washed a load of laundry, ironed some shirts, and tossed out moldy bits of food.
If I do leave the house, then it's off to the grocery store and to the framer's. I don't really see the "me time" in running errands, either. Boo. I'd LIKE to have the energy to go for a run, then go up to Old Street and have a coffee at FIX, or Look Mum No Hands and read a magazine featuring subjects no tougher than who's wearing what this year in the more fashionable parts of town.
I'm grateful to have found work, but am I grateful that I don't have time to see the sights of London? Never mind my finding time to walk through the local park, cook dinner, or keep the house tidy. I didn't come here to work myself into the ground. Full-time service industry work is a soul-killer. Full-time service industry work in a culture that doesn't, in general, observe leaving much of a gratuity is even more brutal. And, paying at just under six quid an hour, the job may not be worth it.
A huge PS: if you're wondering why service in London, in the main, sucks, then know that many establishments are under-staffed, the FOH is working 9-10 hour shifts, and, in my case, there is no break room to relax in during time off the floor. I call "bullshit" on the whole lot of it!
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