My job makes it almost impossible to have a lie in. Even today, when I wasn’t due in work until 11am (a much more reasonable hour than the usual 7am start) I received a phone call from my manager, Ela, at 8.30, asking if I could start my shift an hour earlier.
Given the Bank Holiday proves to be a busy one, extra hours are flying around, and shifts are often becoming available at short notice.
Whenever they ring up during what I perceive to be the ‘early hours,’ they catch me so off guard that I agree to absolutely anything they ask. As soon as the phone goes down and I’m in less of a state of slumber, I’m always overcome by extreme feelings of remorse- ‘Why, oh why did I agree to go in!?’
Apparently I should consider myself lucky that my phone call arrived when it did. My colleague, and very good friend, Tracy Potter, received a similar phone call at 7.30am- and today’s her day off. Not cool. But then she got to spend the day chilling in the sun whilst I ran a barbeque shed. So my heart hardly goes out to her.
 |
| Me, inhaling smoke whilst flipping burgers |
This week, I worked Monday and Tuesday, on a day’s notice, and agreed to work an early on Saturday (7am start) despite working a late on Friday. (11pm finish) As if spending 16 out of 24 hours in the place wasn’t already going to be enough, I then agreed to work an extra shift tomorrow- meaning I’ll be working two consecutive eight hour shifts.
You may perceive this as a bit of a mad move, but with tomorrow being Good Friday, I’ll be earning time and a half (that’s just over £9 an hour.) which means I’ll receive three shifts worth of cash in one day- it's a pity we won't recieve the same perks on the day of the Royal Wedding.
On the begining of a bank holiday weekend, I predict the whole experience will be nothing less than traumatic.
Wish me luck for my 16 hour stint. I can't help but feel I’ll need it.
No comments:
Post a Comment