Chasing Amy-Lou

Today I lost one of my jobs. The one that paid the most. The one I liked the most. The one that provided me with the most exercise, i.e., moving more than I generally do during the day. The one that kept me busy in the afternoon/evenings. The one with the most scope for extra shifts. Shit.

The reason for this? Not because I stole food, or had way too many coffees while on shift. Not because I used my phone and stole the wifi when no-one was looking (I’m stealthy like that). No, it was because the restaurant just wasn’t busy enough and they couldn’t really justify paying my wages. I can’t blame them to be honest. The business is quite new and if it was mine I’d want to keep costs down too, and if that meant doing way more hours myself rather than paying someone else, I’d definitely be taking that approach.

Fear not though dear readers…tah dah, I still have my other job in the espresso bar! Yippee. Hold on, you see, the thing is, it’s only a 20 hour a week job which in essence, just about covers my rent and my food…not ideal if I’m trying to save up, meaning I’ll have to dip into my savings and the little money I came with if I want to do fun things and enjoy myself. Not good.

A friend I made in the hostel, suggested I apply for her job when she leaves. Brilliant I thought, but then I back-tracked…she works as a hostess on the front of a strip club.; greeting punters and inviting them in. She stands with a chaperone and has to look pretty for six hours a day. There’s also opportunity here for her to get her kit off (which she doesn’t do by the way) and move inside the club, effectively making her a stripper. Now, taking your clothes off for money is one thing but I doubt anyone would want to pay to see me take my clothes off. In fact, they’d probably pay just to see me put them all back on again. Besides, that isn’t the point, I would never and could never stoop that low, not for any amount of money. I can barely bring myself to get naked in the bedroom with a boy, let alone a complete stranger. I also lack the essentials required for this kind of job – great body, killer rack and really attractive face. Such is life.

Therefore, I have spent most of the day (between lengthy power naps and a bit of sunbathing) applying for a hell of a lot of jobs online. I’ve applied for more bar and waitressing work, I’ve applied for receptionist work, I’ve emailed a recruitment agency I went to see two weeks ago to see if they have anything for me. Tomorrow, I will probably take some more CVs into the city and see how I get on there. If I’d known I’d be spending half my time in Australia job hunting and working then I probably would’ve thought twice about coming out here.

I should count my blessings. At least I have one job which will provide me with enough money to live off. The only thing is (and I always find a ‘but’, don’t I?), I now have all my days and evening free, with no money to do anything with, no-one to spend time with and fresh boredom to negotiate my way around. I think what I’ll have to do is take myself off for some killer walks, get amongst the museum life and Google lots of free shit to do in Brisbane. Or, I could just blog about inane things all the time and bore you guys to tears while slowly driving myself insane. Aaaaargh!

It’s not all that bad though. I get to spend time down by the beach; I can see if the hostel will let me work for my accommodation (which might be tricky as there’s a lot of people wanting to do that but it’s always worth a shot); and I’ll also get to see much more of Brisbane than I have already. It will also mean I’ll be spending less on booze and food which can only be good for the waistline…hoorah!

If all that fails and my bank balance begins to dwindle significantly faster than I’d like, if I find myself hating the predicament I’m in and wishing I could be somewhere else, I could just do a Demi Moore from Indecent Proposal and see if some rich businessman will pay me $100,000 for sex…