So, having not worked since April, Ski school has now started and last night I had a phone call to come into work today.
My job is to help with the kids rather than instructing (which I also do) - take them to the loo, get their drinks ready for their break, cleaning, entertaining the kids, warm up dance with a giant fluffy rabbit and suchlike.
So I got up before midday (ha!) and went to set up everything and explain to the ski instructors the new set up.
Usually we have kids "snow league" ski classes but because the kids area is not totally ready (lack of snow) there are only private lessons and "Club Med" which is all inclusive holidays and has it's own division of ski school.
First order of the day - cigarettes. The number of cigarettes I smoke increases proportional to the stress level. Second, go to the shop and by sirop, tissues, sweets, dishwashing stuff etc. I then bumped into the local taxi driver (well, she nearly ran me over actually) who I owe 80chf from my emergency transfer from the doctors to the station when I .....erm.....slightly overdosed in March. I thought the social had paid it on my behalf because it is something the health insurance would pay (see previous post) but no, it wasn't paid. And she only realised last week. So today she started shouting at me about it. I've told her I will pay it by the end of the week but as I have no money, I think I will have to ask ski school for an advance on my wages.
So that upset me. But I didn't let it show (saved my crying for later).
The morning was going quite well. And then my boss turned up.
He is a bit of a stresshead. Stresshead big time. So today, the conversation went something like this:
Me: "Boss, do you need me to stay all day?" (I get paid per day no matter how many hours I work)
Boss: "You have children. you must look after....erm....there's a child"
Me: "Do you meant the Club Med kids? They are here all day."
Boss: "There's a child....there's a child"
Me: "Are you saying there is a child I need to look after'"
Me: "And where is this child"
Boss: "With C."
Me: "And where is C?"
Boss: "Well they are having lunch, in the hotel."
Me: "So you want me to get the child from the ski instructor and look after it."
Me: "Until when? When do the parents pick it up?"
Boss: "I dont know".
Oh FFS. It's day one. This kind of conversation is normal and I will be having it every day (except Saturdays) until April. Anyway, I sorted it out in the end as I am now expert at deciphering cryptic instructions. And now the child will be doing the same every day.
I then had to rush to a second job in one of the sport shops (just on a casual basis) and I fifnished about an hour ago. I have a massive headache caused by the stress. I forgot these headaches. Must take some calming prescription drugs with me tomorrow.
Such is my life at the moment.
Monday, 19 December 2011
Saturday, 17 December 2011
When I was little I LOVED the Mr Men. I still do. My best mate bought the DVD of the old series last August and as I watched it, I was struck by the apparent mental health issues that they had to deal with. I don't have the books or DVD to hand so have had to do a bit of research on the characters to remind myself. So here goes:
THE MR MEN GUIDE TO MENTAL HEALTH (*Little Miss can piss off. They were a money making crap equal opportunites attempt).
Mr Brave clearly has an anxiety disorder in terms of phobias, mainly about heights. He is described as a "lucky coward" as he braves it out rather than admits his fears and anxiety.
Mr Bump (my favourite)
Poor Mr Busy. Never stops rushing around. Clearly having some kind of manic episode.
Well a bit like Mr Busy really. Mr chatterbox never shuts up. He's one of those annoying mentalists in group therapy who can't help but talk and talk and talk and talk. Maybe another one having a manic episode? Mr Bowler the hat maker gives Mr Chatterbox a hat which when he wears it grows to big and covers Mr Chatterbox until he learns to shutup. I think Mr Bowler is a euphanism for a Psychiatrist and that the "hat" is really some very strong medication to turn him into a zombie.