RESTING/ UNEMPLOYED?
PLEASE NOTE: new email address lerner70@btinternet.com Would be glad to hear from you.
The season is finally over a week or two before the clocks go back and, although the alarm went off at six as usual this morning (so I could take my brother to Waterloo for his train and before the congestion charge kicks in) unemployment beckons. If there is just one booking in the diary then you can truthfully say you are 'between engagements' (commercial not romantic) or, as the acting profession, has it ' resting', although this does imply a degree of desperation.
You should not feel desperate with a season's taking in the bank but self-employment breeds a degree of financial anxiety that is unknown to those in the salaried world. The monthly payments to the bank, telephone, pensions and ex (biggest of all) keep coming and you do a little mental arithmetic to see if there is enough int he bank before the next job comes. You become anxious about ratings - will they be good enough to merit a couple of winter tours? - and about the deafening silence from the agency you work for. Did they hear about the fact that the signals failed on the Victoria line on the day of that one mid-season job they gave you and which you accepted it even though you didn't really want to do it,on the basis that you never turn down work in case they stop asking, so that, for the first time since qualifying in 1980, you were late for a job, which is a crime so unspeakably hideous that I hate to admit it even in a blog which hardly anyone but me reads? And despite the fact that I spent a good portion of the fee I got on a taxi to King's Cross which ended up being slower than the tube train I was stuck on..
A winter job does look look more worthwhile at times like this: getting up early to deliver Christmas cards (or sorting them at night), standing up all day in a suit and tie serving Chrsitmas shoppers or bragain hunters in the sales, even helping my old friend Owen in his van job.
Then I remember living in Devon and looking for a job in the close season and being told "You'll be lucky" when I mentioned that I would hope for a modest £100 a week for a winter job (admittedly fifteen years ago) when I could earn £100 a day from guiding. Then I thought that would be better not to panic and to stick with my profession and its admittedly uncertain rewards, while trying to write that book which I had always intended to. (Walk This Way is still available from Amazon by the way.)
Which reminds me, another book is waiting to be read. Which means self-motivation and discipline, all those things I thought I was good at...
The season is finally over a week or two before the clocks go back and, although the alarm went off at six as usual this morning (so I could take my brother to Waterloo for his train and before the congestion charge kicks in) unemployment beckons. If there is just one booking in the diary then you can truthfully say you are 'between engagements' (commercial not romantic) or, as the acting profession, has it ' resting', although this does imply a degree of desperation.
You should not feel desperate with a season's taking in the bank but self-employment breeds a degree of financial anxiety that is unknown to those in the salaried world. The monthly payments to the bank, telephone, pensions and ex (biggest of all) keep coming and you do a little mental arithmetic to see if there is enough int he bank before the next job comes. You become anxious about ratings - will they be good enough to merit a couple of winter tours? - and about the deafening silence from the agency you work for. Did they hear about the fact that the signals failed on the Victoria line on the day of that one mid-season job they gave you and which you accepted it even though you didn't really want to do it,on the basis that you never turn down work in case they stop asking, so that, for the first time since qualifying in 1980, you were late for a job, which is a crime so unspeakably hideous that I hate to admit it even in a blog which hardly anyone but me reads? And despite the fact that I spent a good portion of the fee I got on a taxi to King's Cross which ended up being slower than the tube train I was stuck on..
A winter job does look look more worthwhile at times like this: getting up early to deliver Christmas cards (or sorting them at night), standing up all day in a suit and tie serving Chrsitmas shoppers or bragain hunters in the sales, even helping my old friend Owen in his van job.
Then I remember living in Devon and looking for a job in the close season and being told "You'll be lucky" when I mentioned that I would hope for a modest £100 a week for a winter job (admittedly fifteen years ago) when I could earn £100 a day from guiding. Then I thought that would be better not to panic and to stick with my profession and its admittedly uncertain rewards, while trying to write that book which I had always intended to. (Walk This Way is still available from Amazon by the way.)
Which reminds me, another book is waiting to be read. Which means self-motivation and discipline, all those things I thought I was good at...
posted by tourguideddie at 2:41 AM
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