out to lunch

the title just about sums up this past two weeks for your uniquely “unsuitable for work” diva.

it’s been “fun” though, in a sort of mix with the masses, see how the other half lives, kind of way. Sadly, i have the terrible misfortune of having to take the tube to work every day (here in athens, they seem to insist on calling it the metro. very french). i get to observe other members of our species, if that is indeed what they are, failing to leave an impression on the world as they blunder backwards and forwards through the transport system. obviously, there is a need for all this flotsam, to fulfill the needs and desires of those of us who are able to afford them but one would rather not have to rub shoulders (and other unmentionable parts) with them on a daily basis. i fear i must go along with this travesty until i can find a new driver willing to work for sixpence a week, seeing as i seem to be on what is called “minimum wage”. who knew such a thing existed?

now that i’ve got the hang of this filthy thing on my desk called a PC, i will be posting more regularly but i’ll have to keep it short and sans image (just thought i’d continue the french motif)

from the diva desk…

gissa job

it’s happened. finally, after years of being a professional diva, i have been forced to take a position. and before all you rude people jump to conclusions, i mean i’ve been forced to take a… such an ugly word… job. yes, your favorite diva will be starting work on monday… in an office… with desks and chairs and and and… dare i say it?… bosses.

of course, i have absolutely no idea what they are expecting me to do as i’m sure they’ll be providing an assistant to do the actual work. i’ve booked an early session at the spa for 11 on monday so i should arrive in time for whatever it is they foresee i will be doing. i do hope they won’t be asking me to actually use one of those horrible little PCs that they have. they must realise that a diva only uses a mac?

the pay is appalling. i don’t know how they expect peasants to live on the crumbs they give you, let alone someone like me. but because of this financial crisis bla bla bla  my lawyers keep harping on about, it seems that i must accept the pocket money they’re offering with enthusiasm and gratitude. i’ve told them it won’t keep me in underwear, not to mention the (regrettably skeleton) staff i am obliged to maintain. fortunately, they (the minions) have few expectations or ambitions so working for peanuts won’t really bother them.

and what does one wear to this workplace? i suppose i should dress down for the occasion. i don’t want to unleash the full force of the diva on day one. i can’t guard against all the office gossip that will ensue from having a celebrity in the mix but i won’t be the one to hand out the ammunition. oh! that reminds me. i must talk to the head of security at the company. it seems that they let riff-raff just walk in off the streets! haven’t they heard of the paparazzi? or stalkers? or fans? good grief, it’s going to be a long week.

i’m going to lie down. it’s exhausting just thinking about it.

fyi: the title of this post “gissa job” was the catchphrase of the character yosser hughes (bernard hill) from the tv series “boys from the blackstuff” (1982) by alan bleasdale. in case you were wondering…