Being Part of Working Class

I'm a Desperate Teenager.
Unless my insatiable hunger for this black beauty is fulfiled.



Incredibly sexy, no?

The great lengths I have undertaken to realise this vision of mine include getting my arse to work the hours. Not just one job, heck no, that's not enough. There're two.

Having been through the early stages of these jobs, I thought it'd only be appropriate that I blog about it. It rightfully deserves a spot in the Ling-O-Logy archives. So, here goes...

The Classifieds section the The Star was the one which brought me hope *eyes gleaming with tears and light radiating from my copy of The Star newspaper*... I had my heart set on a teaching job, but somehow an ad for a florist appealed to me even more. In the end, I got it! And for that, I have to thank a certain person who stood me up last thursday. That allowed me to attend the interview that day! What are the odds?

What can I say? My bosses are such darlings! And I totally love them. They took such good care of me, besides being extremely patient teaching a noob how to do flower arrangements, corsages, bouquets, ribbons and etc. Courses like these costs a fortune outside, and I get paid while learning? I think I've just hit a jackpot. 3 days a week, 9 hours a day, with moderate customer turnout rate, it's the perfect one for me. Bonuses include knowing some taitais, datuks, basically the rest of the neighbourhood and adorable caucasian kids! Oh, and did I mention Suan and Lawrence were such amiable people who gave me toys, cupcakes and roses too? Boy, though the wage isn't alot, I sure ain't regretting this! Alot of effort have been invested in this job. For instance, tangling all my fingers together trying to create that ribbon, instead of knotting them together, waking up early, forcing rusty leg muscles to cycle my lazy bum there, struggling to keep those dratted eyelids from coming into contact with each other and more which, I can't recall in the mean time. I'm brain juice deprived.

My pretty little workplace...

And look, the cash register! I now know how to use the cash register! Yay, me!

I'm afraid to say I don't have any photographs to show off my teaching "flair". First off, little Miss Tuition Teacher here wants to minimise the intimidation factor in class. (Although, I have no idea in what ways do a short, slender, and wacky me seem intimidating.) And by aiming a camera at the girls, followed by some furious snapping wouldn't help at all. Other than the fact that my room=classroom is a huge mess on its own, my camera has run out of memory. Lol. Mental note to self: cut down on the cam-whoring. See? I'm being such a considerate and caring young educator, LOL. Who else wants to hire me?

My weekends for this week, I'm proud to say they are comfortably occupied. Hurray for the revival of my social life! No more self-glueing my bum to my chair, while disintergrating in front of Zeus, my computer. No more sleeping more than 12 hours a day just because I'm so pathetic that I really have nothing else to do. I hope that Portugal will experience a revival to victory tonight too! Go Portugal tonight, Go Italy on Sunday night! Screw Germany (the germs), Screw France (the ancient-aged)!