According to my profile on Goodreads.com, I am currently reading Stephen Fry's The Fry Chronicles: An Autobiography. I'm on page 280, which the website helpfully tells me is 62% of the way through. It's pretty good; Fry's command of the English language remains as elegantly authoritative (and verbose) as ever. But I've got to say, the ease with which he entered and entrenched himself in the British media landscape makes me bitterly green. He was actively scouted by his agent and handed a job at the BBC after a successful tour of his Cambridge Footlights sketch show in Australia.
My only experience with trying to get a job in Australian public television was a highly uncomfortable interview with Andrew Denton about his show Hungry Beast. I was lucky to even get the interview and it was incredible that I even made the shortlist. Still, I left unsure if I was really suited to TV or whether it was just that particular show/producer/concept that was the problem. I don't know, I love writing and performing my own material for the camera, but as soon as I approach anything resembling "showbusiness" I can't help but feel I'm in over my head. Is there a place for a person like that in the job market?
Ugh, why am I even blogging about this? Work has been awful this past week. I was unceremoniously shafted from the children's section last week, being told that once my contract for working there is over I'm going back to regular floor service. I wasn't expecting this at all and I was (and still am) pretty angry about it but there's nothing I can do, so even the thought of going to find another job after this one finishes just fills me with dread. A whole other employer to frustrate me? Whoopee! Still, only nine weeks of Purgatorial labour to go, then I get flung out into the wild unknown of the UK. Will I sink or swim? I don't know! I'm very excited and more than a little anxious.
This has been yet another blog about work. Ha. I'm sure I'll be more exciting soon.