This year has been BIG. Lots of first and lasts, new and old and lots and lots of discoveries.
I started the year getting promoted at AP, promoted into the depths of HELL that is also known as Selfridges. EVERYONE warned be of it, and EVERYONE told me I would hate it. EVERYONE was right.
Day One consisted of a manager that had absolutely no idea how to work a till (or to work people for that matter, her longest standing staff member was about 3 months) and a floor manager threatening to sack me because I corrected her on garment knowledge. Never mind the fact that in the training I laughed when they said it was a gross misconduct to carry water on the shop floor, and they told me I was welcome to look for another shop if I found this very serious matter entertaining. Having SCRAPED through training, I managed to earn a SLN badge (kill me now) and SLN ID card (If I wasn't going to be charged about £100 for not returning it, I would have burned it.)
The very fact that it is "illegal" to carry lipstick on the shop floor was enough to remind me of school, creeping through the corridors in case you get caught for not having a toilet pass. And boy, if you forgot your Selfridges badge, you might as well just cane yourself and save the floor manager the bother...
So, entrance to Fort Knox. Walk through the staff entrance, scan card, hike down three flights of stairs to the most depressing locker room in history, find a locker (they don't provide you with your own, you have to FIND a spare one AND bring your own lock?!) This in itself was a massive stress. Then you have to get past the FRIENDLY (sarcasm) security guards. NO PURSES, NO CASH, NO WATER, NO FOOD, NO MAKE UP, nothing but your Selfridges ID card and yellow badge (wait does this sound a bit like Nazi Germany? With the yellow stars pinned to your sleeve...) However my manager (yes my very responsible manager) did inform me that if I flash a bit of cleavage (what cleavage?!) They might let you get away with taking a lipstick upstairs (LUCKY ME!) Then once you've passed customs, with literally nothing to declare, you can hike up four escalators to lingerie. Every step closer and my stomach was ILL with anxiety. I missed Diane, and Gaby from the City store, where we worked HARD, smashed targets and had FUN, not to mention the fact that I now had to work weekends. (every weekend, I had the privilege of one weekend day off a month) AND lates, and the lates WERE LATE. Yes, I know I would have known this BEFORE I took the job, AND EVERYONE had to work lates (everyone apart from the manager that is, who put herself on nothing but earlies, you know as the earlies are the busiest period, when the staff REALLY need a manager around for support coz it's SO RAMMED... Good one...)
Anyway, we all get it, I hated Selfridges. Bla bla bla. Moan moan moan, I started spontaneously collapsing at work, to the annoyance of manager, who told me to go home coz I was of no use to her, I asked her why she hadn't even asked me if I was ok (obviously wasn't ok, as was collapsing) and she simple said that it wasnt her job to ask if I was ok. So I quit. Hurray. Vowed never to set foot in Selfridges again, until I REALLY needed miu miu shoes from there and they were the only store that had them. Needs must and all that.
Onwards and upwards to PART TWO... the lovely land of triyoga... more of that later on this evening.
Curry is just about to be delivered, for our NYE night in! This is the first year we have "stayed in." Are we getting old? Paul hasnt been home for 6 weekends out of 8, and this is some well deserved quality time together. I am looking outside and it is raining, and I am looking inside at our lovely home with our lovely cats, and the MASSIVE pile of DVDs we just bought, and I could not be happier.
Happy New Year all, here's to a fantastic, 2013.