Working hard to get my fill, everybody wants my will

I had to do something unusual during training on Monday (no, not that, it's not that kind of call centre)- I had to decide where my 'super' would go if I didn't claim it before I died. This apparently refers to a superannuation fund, and I think it's like a pension- they were using lots of unfamiliar words like 'work' and 'standard'.
Anyway, I'm not gonna say who I decided to leave it to, but I want this on record- if they do get ahold of the money, then they have to use it to par-TAY. And I mean so hard it hurts. I want them to shave at least five years off their lifespan over the course of a Krazy (with a Kapital 'K') weekend, spent doing all manner of depraved things in which I can no longer partake. Game's on, Mr. Sage. Damn, gave it away.

In other news, training was alright, my co-workers seem cool, the job doesn't seem too difficult, but I imagine the first time I actually make a call to someone I'll freak out and end up insulting their mothers- true fact, this is how 90% of first conversations go with me.

We just had a meeting of the Blank Slate theatre company, of which I am the Producer; queue to the left for the casting couch. It was really fun; we played some games (name games are another facet of theatre that is universal), then we made some tableaus on the theme of 'connections' (honestly less wanky than it sounds). Hopefully, we'll be meeting weekly, and it'll be nice to get back into some theatre stuff- this has been my first semester without doing any plays at all, and I've missed the camraderie and sense of whimsy that accompanies the best productions; I've not missed the self-consciousness and irritation that accompanies not-so-good productions ('Alack! The Killer flees!' 'Killer fleas? Where?!). But I have a good feeling about Blank Slate; I have a lot of good feelings now-a-days.

Diary of a call girl

'Twould seem a first is going to be broached while in Oz-land; I have gained my first proper, salaried job.

Laying the foundations for my future. Get it?

I've had jobs before, obviously- I was the longest serving paperboy the Shropshire Star ever had, thank you very much- but this is my first adult job in that I will be paid a fixed salary and will be working for predetermined shifts (the paper round took me between forty five minutes and two and a half hours- depending on how much I let the OAPs talk at me).

When he started talking he was just a joey.

I imagine this is going to be one of those facts about me that I think are fascinating but never seem to hold the same amount of interest for anyone else. If I read in one of Stephen Fry's autobiographies that his first salaried emploi was antipodean in nature, I would have given a 'huh' or a 'fancy that' (I don't think anyone from Cherry Orchard is reading this, but if you are, that was for you); for some undiscernible reason, I do not hold the same sway as Mr. Fry. Alack.

 I can't possibly imagine why.

If you're interested (or, like Daniel, are merely pretending to be interested out of a misplaced sense of gratitude), I'll be conducting telephone surveys for a living. Just like Phoebe in that friends episode. No, wait, she was selling toner. No...no I can't think of anyone who conducted telephone interviews in fiction; I guess I'll be the first. Ever.*

This has been a year of many firsts.

Of course, having a salary does change the dynamic of this year: if I'm thrifty, I could maybe stay longer; if not, I'll at least have more money to blow on luxuries. Yes, believe it or not, this development could end up extending my stay a further month and a half- my visa isn't up until August 30th. Sadly, my ticket runs out mid-July; I'd can't ask my parents to pay for another ticket just so I can have more jollies, but if I can afford a ticket myself, then there's no guilt attached. It could also mean more travelling (because more money), and will hopefully help stem the holiday blues a wee bit (because something to do). Yes, the implications are endful. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. We still need to last the first day.

*That's right, Logan, I went there. Whatcha gonna do about it?