-I'll think of some drama, then put myself in someones shoes, build up a story behind it, then write about what could have happened and what I'd do if it had been me...
I lost my job
Cuts. I blame it on the cuts. Stupid government, can't they see that they're just ruining people's lives? There's never any use asking why, there's nothing I can do to change this, I'll just have to look for another job.
I've been trawling through the Internet looking at vacancies in every company cafeteria, school, bakery, cafe, restaurant and god knows where else for about a month now.
The TV has been off to compensate for the constant buzz of my laptop, I've been eating at my parents house for the past two weeks as I have no money to buy food and my only pair of designer shoes - Christian Louboutins - have been sold on eBay to pay my rent. I really am at the end of my tether.
Everything has just happened at the wrong time, my emergency savings went on my cars MOT, then my debit card was stolen and someone drew out £500 over two days - I only realised when the rent bounced - then suddenly I'm losing my job, company phone - a gorgeous Blackberry Curve - and this is just before I'm due to get the bonus that will save me.
I turn to the pile of newspapers that Mum saved for me and begin to circle anything vaguely appropriate, I also begin to understand that any job will have to do - I need the money.
I ring up a couple of waitressing vacancies and post off another twenty CV's then drive down to Mum's for dinner.
My family have been very supportive over the last month, but to be honest I think Mum is enjoying having me back home so she can control my life. I'm being fed. I must not moan, but every time over any meal it's 'So, what have you done today to get a job? They won't just appear on their own you know darling.' and then you have to talk her through every google search, every ringed vacancy, addressed envelope and phone call. By the end of the meal you're getting it in the neck for not doing enough, even though I'm only ever breaking from my strenuous job search to eat, sleep and wash.
What more can I do? My ambition has all dried up. Five years ago I left university with the dream of working as a chef for a Michelin starred restaurant, what do I get? A job working as cook at a Council office cafeteria. I told myself it was just for experience, just to get me started, to get my feet wet, and gradually I'd work my way up.
I got tired of coming home every night after dealing with moody cooks and customer complaints and searching through restaurant chef vacancies. I got an interview once, but I lost it to someone who won 'Masterchef', and they didn't seem impressed with my mediocre sandwiching skills.
As I reluctantly turned down my parents road I considered turning back and going home, I wanted to avoid the critics. But the grumble of my stomach reminded me how hungry I was and I carried on. One plus from not having enough money to buy food? I've lost about seven pounds.
Turning off the engine I noticed that the fuel gauge was in the red, which just put me in an even worse mood.
Dinner was the same as always, 'No Mum.' 'Yes Mum' 'No Mum, I do not want to train as a mechanic so I can work with Dad.'
Jenny, my tweenage, much younger sister wrapped me up a cupcake sprinkled with stars. She's only ten, bless her.
"I heard your tummy rumbling." She giggled. "I made it myself, from that cookbook you made for me for my birthday!" I thanked her, then begged Dad for twenty quid for fuel when Mum was out of earshot.
It was raining when I finally left, I'd done some mental calculations in my head and I figured if I moved out of the apartment, sold most of my stuff and moved back in with Mum and Dad, I'd be hell of a lot more comfortable. But the idea of having to admit I needed my parents at 26 scared the crap out of me. That would really be admitting defeat.
I pulled into the petrol station and filled up the car to the value of £15, that extra £5 would be the only good thing in my life, I looked over at a guy filling up a BMW, which looked comical next to my Astra.
He was about my age I guessed, well off, obviously, his black messy hair was everywhere and was long enough to cover most of his ears, he was tall, about 6ft, and you could see from his thin shirt that he worked out.
He caught me staring, and I flushed red and looked away quickly. I tried to focus on the car show room across the road, on a sign that read 'Strapped for cash? Don't really need your car? We value and guarantee to buy your car, you'll have the money paid into your account in three days! All paperwork sorted!' My eyes widened and I turned to look at my car, it was small, and pathetic and only a run around. All it was doing was carting me to and from Mum and Dads. I lived right near the shops. I could walk places. I could use the bus.
Suddenly everything pieced itself together, I saw the cupcake Jenny made, simplistic, beautiful, it had cheered me up. I saw the car, the money, my old cooking equipment in the loft left over from University. It was do-able.
I'd make and sell my own cakes! I set up my own Magnolia Bakery in Plymouth! Everyone would come into my shop grumpy and rain soaked, and they'd buy my cheap, but amazing cakes and feel better, people would come in and ask for personalized ones, they would have had forgotten about their friends birthday and my cakes would make everything better.
I smiled, I could take a job as a waitress and work evenings, and run my business by day. It could work. It will work, I looked over at the fit BMW guy and grinned, he grinned back, confused, but happy to.
I skipped over to the shop and paid for the petrol. As I stood in the queue I saw my reflection in the mirror behind the counter, my hair was tied up in a tight ponytail as I didn't use my straighteners anymore - saving electricity - I only wore minimal make-up and I looked awful, but it was my expression that amazed me, I was glowing and I realized everything might be fixed, I had a chance.
Showing posts with label Putting Myself Into Someone Else's Shoes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Putting Myself Into Someone Else's Shoes. Show all posts
Saturday, 31 July 2010
Thursday, 29 July 2010
Putting Myself Into Someone Else's Shoes - Your Boyfriend's cheating on you with your best friend.
- I'll think of some drama, then put myself in someones shoes, build up a story behind it, then write about what could have happened and what I'd do if it had been me...
Your boyfriend's cheating on you, with your best friend...
It was raining so hard when I'd finally stepped out of the office that night, I gripped my umbrella tightly, not because it was windy, but to control my stress and frustration left over from the working day. After flagging down a taxi I fought back thoughts about Debbie. But her sneering grin kept forcing it's way through.
It was a strain not to think about it. The whole day had been a mess, I had got in work early to make some international calls and find out about the internal promotion I was up for.
I thought I'd had a pretty good chance, I've been here for three years researching other peoples articles, organising everyone elses meetings, I even had the chance to put together a double page spread the other day that my boss loved. But this was something I really wanted; to be able to write something. This was actually just a website page where I could write about fashion, lifestyle, anything I wanted.
If it went well, I'd get an advert on the other blogs, and if that went well, I'd get an actual space in the newspaper.
Of course it didn't turn out like that, after submitting reams of work and being shortlisted Debbie barged her way in demanding to know how I was going to do the job along with my current duties, that take up most of my life (I work twelve hour days and am on call for emergencies).
But anyway, among other things, not getting the promotion cause of Debbie's lies really sent me into one of the worst moods ever.
The rain was still hammering down the window of the taxi, the drops glowed orange under the reflection of the street lights and I tried to think of what would await me at home.
It was my birthday, and no doubt Mark would have let himself in my flat and would be making me tea right now (Or to be more accurate phoning for my favourite pizza, but he can't cook and its the thought that counts) and running me a warm bath.
What awaited me behind that door was something I could never have comprehended, unbeknown to me Mark had invited all my friends over for a dinner party, something that wasn't due to start for an hour, I later learned.
I glanced at my watch as we turned down my road, Seven O'clock, two hours earlier than my normal get off time, it was planned, but also I couldn't bear to sit in that office anymore with Debbie handing around champagne (it was a major thing in our office of assistants) and everyone coming up to me and expressing their sympathy about my lost job.
I had been going around the office telling everyone about my supposed success and how I hoped that I'd finally get my shot and how miserable my life was, now I just looked like the biggest idiot in the world.
I breathed in deeply trying to calm myself down and not ruin my birthday by being melancholy, I thrust the key in the lock and opened the door.
One beautiful face looked up, surprised and shameful, her long blond hair spread out against the wall, the other person, had their back to me, but he stopped right in the middle of unbuttoning her shirt. She unwound her legs from around his waist and wiped her mouth, her lipstick smeared everywhere from kissing.
It seems I had caught them before anything began, they were still fully clothed, but I just stood there, my stomach churning, my feet glued to the floor, my whole body rigid. I blinked hard, screwing my eyes up tight, hoping that when I opened them that image would be gone and people would jump out from the living room and shout 'Surprise!'
I opened them and now they had both turned to look at me, but their eyes keep swivelling back to each others, like they couldn't be concerned about anyone elses existence than theirs.
Finally, someone spoke."Emily." He said with no edge to his voice, no emotion, no feelings of regret. I looked at her, that face, so familiar, so endeared to me, my best friend since primary school, her face sorry, but proud, like I should have known, like she had a right to do this like it didn't matter.
"Get out." I said, talking through my teeth, looking at the floor. Holly picked up her shoes and swiftly ran past me, climbing into Marks car. My eyes started to fill with tears and I fought will every ounce of energy I had to keep them from spilling over.
"Em, I'm sorry. We love each other." He said, his coat bundled up in his arms.
"Then tell me, break-up with me, before anything happens do that first! There's this thing called respect Mark!" I said, my voice shaking, trying not to lose it, trying not to cry.
"But you! You've been so distant with this job, and the hours... we never talk..."
"Don't pin this on me, you're the scum, you're both the scum!" He walked over to me and tried to hug me, but I pushed him away.
"I still want to be friends Em, I still care about you." He looked hurt, but I didn't care.
"Piss off!!!" I screamed, my tears flowing full pelt now, he did, he walked and stood just outside the door, turning to look at me he began to talk.
"Don't blame Hol-" I didn't hear the rest, I slammed the front door with all the might I could manage. I locked up, threw my bag, umbrella, coat and shoes onto the floor and jumped face down onto my bed, screaming.
My whole world had come crashing down in one day, my boyfriend, my best friend, my job, my life. I cried myself to sleep that night and called in sick the next day. Everyone would think it was because of Debbie, but who cares?
I didn't know what to do, everything made me think of them, thrust up against that wall, just to spite me. I sat in bed staring into space trying to think of anything but that, but I did. I curled up in pain and screamed, every time.
I hated their guts. I didn't know what the hell to do with myself.
TO BE CONTINUED
Your boyfriend's cheating on you, with your best friend...
It was raining so hard when I'd finally stepped out of the office that night, I gripped my umbrella tightly, not because it was windy, but to control my stress and frustration left over from the working day. After flagging down a taxi I fought back thoughts about Debbie. But her sneering grin kept forcing it's way through.
It was a strain not to think about it. The whole day had been a mess, I had got in work early to make some international calls and find out about the internal promotion I was up for.
I thought I'd had a pretty good chance, I've been here for three years researching other peoples articles, organising everyone elses meetings, I even had the chance to put together a double page spread the other day that my boss loved. But this was something I really wanted; to be able to write something. This was actually just a website page where I could write about fashion, lifestyle, anything I wanted.
If it went well, I'd get an advert on the other blogs, and if that went well, I'd get an actual space in the newspaper.
Of course it didn't turn out like that, after submitting reams of work and being shortlisted Debbie barged her way in demanding to know how I was going to do the job along with my current duties, that take up most of my life (I work twelve hour days and am on call for emergencies).
But anyway, among other things, not getting the promotion cause of Debbie's lies really sent me into one of the worst moods ever.
The rain was still hammering down the window of the taxi, the drops glowed orange under the reflection of the street lights and I tried to think of what would await me at home.
It was my birthday, and no doubt Mark would have let himself in my flat and would be making me tea right now (Or to be more accurate phoning for my favourite pizza, but he can't cook and its the thought that counts) and running me a warm bath.
What awaited me behind that door was something I could never have comprehended, unbeknown to me Mark had invited all my friends over for a dinner party, something that wasn't due to start for an hour, I later learned.
I glanced at my watch as we turned down my road, Seven O'clock, two hours earlier than my normal get off time, it was planned, but also I couldn't bear to sit in that office anymore with Debbie handing around champagne (it was a major thing in our office of assistants) and everyone coming up to me and expressing their sympathy about my lost job.
I had been going around the office telling everyone about my supposed success and how I hoped that I'd finally get my shot and how miserable my life was, now I just looked like the biggest idiot in the world.
I breathed in deeply trying to calm myself down and not ruin my birthday by being melancholy, I thrust the key in the lock and opened the door.
One beautiful face looked up, surprised and shameful, her long blond hair spread out against the wall, the other person, had their back to me, but he stopped right in the middle of unbuttoning her shirt. She unwound her legs from around his waist and wiped her mouth, her lipstick smeared everywhere from kissing.
It seems I had caught them before anything began, they were still fully clothed, but I just stood there, my stomach churning, my feet glued to the floor, my whole body rigid. I blinked hard, screwing my eyes up tight, hoping that when I opened them that image would be gone and people would jump out from the living room and shout 'Surprise!'
I opened them and now they had both turned to look at me, but their eyes keep swivelling back to each others, like they couldn't be concerned about anyone elses existence than theirs.
Finally, someone spoke."Emily." He said with no edge to his voice, no emotion, no feelings of regret. I looked at her, that face, so familiar, so endeared to me, my best friend since primary school, her face sorry, but proud, like I should have known, like she had a right to do this like it didn't matter.
"Get out." I said, talking through my teeth, looking at the floor. Holly picked up her shoes and swiftly ran past me, climbing into Marks car. My eyes started to fill with tears and I fought will every ounce of energy I had to keep them from spilling over.
"Em, I'm sorry. We love each other." He said, his coat bundled up in his arms.
"Then tell me, break-up with me, before anything happens do that first! There's this thing called respect Mark!" I said, my voice shaking, trying not to lose it, trying not to cry.
"But you! You've been so distant with this job, and the hours... we never talk..."
"Don't pin this on me, you're the scum, you're both the scum!" He walked over to me and tried to hug me, but I pushed him away.
"I still want to be friends Em, I still care about you." He looked hurt, but I didn't care.
"Piss off!!!" I screamed, my tears flowing full pelt now, he did, he walked and stood just outside the door, turning to look at me he began to talk.
"Don't blame Hol-" I didn't hear the rest, I slammed the front door with all the might I could manage. I locked up, threw my bag, umbrella, coat and shoes onto the floor and jumped face down onto my bed, screaming.
My whole world had come crashing down in one day, my boyfriend, my best friend, my job, my life. I cried myself to sleep that night and called in sick the next day. Everyone would think it was because of Debbie, but who cares?
I didn't know what to do, everything made me think of them, thrust up against that wall, just to spite me. I sat in bed staring into space trying to think of anything but that, but I did. I curled up in pain and screamed, every time.
I hated their guts. I didn't know what the hell to do with myself.
TO BE CONTINUED
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