Friday, Aug. 09, 2002 - 12:57 p.m.
Stottie and self-loathing
Before I launch into how depressed and self-loathing I am (fun entry coming up) I have to share something that has just occurred to me. In London, right, you can get any kind of foodstuff from anywhere on the globe. I'm sure. I mean - I have eaten at Afghan restaurant and myriad Turkish, every Asian (although actually not sure I remember eating Burmese or Cambodian food though sure must be able to somewhere), and I know where to find an Ethiopian restaurant even though have not been there (Caledonian Road at Copenhagen Street). BUT - where oh where can I buy stottie? Hands up who even knows what stottie is??*peers out into Diaryland*
Nobody. Unless you are from a very specific area of the midlands (ie Coventry/Rugby but not Northants) and, I believe, Newcastle. When I was little, my lunches consisted of skinless sausages in stottie. Which is, by the way, a disc of bread about 5cm high and 30cm across which you cut like a cake, resulting in triangular sandwich. Every sandwich bar in my home town - sorry, both sandwich bars - sells stottie sandwiches, with free handfull of crisps inside. Mmm!
So, last night, in a fit of misery resulting from attempting to enjoy night out with everyone from work, I listed things that I like and things that I don't. Which went roughly as follows:
LIKE all my friends, my flat, London, cinema, going to Edinburgh
DON'T LIKE where I work, my job, exact place where I work, work per se, the fact that they interview for NY job and forgot about me.
The New York job is only holiday cover for this guy out there, so just for one month in November which would be DREAMY (with view to taking job for year next year ... but don't have to worry about that). I had told my director was interested and could we talk about it and she said, "Certainly - I'm just going to wait and see who's interested and then I'll set up a time to talk." And then proceeded to forget about me and now I am totally cursing a) her incompetence b) my stupidity not chasing it up sooner c) fact that annoying girl behind me (the one who nearly bought the flat next to mine, but opted for one BEHIND mine – of all the boroughs in London, she had to walk into mine) interviewed for it and i could so do it wayyyyyyy better than her.
So yeah, I'm full of chronic mysanthropy and fearfulness for idiocy of self and that am not treating self as a business machine in manner of Sarah Michelle Geller who is a one-woman acting/Hollywood game playing machine.
Any advice in the field of job searching much appreciated. Thanks for your time.