Work...

I am back! You can stop worrying now, I didn't die on Friday the 13th, as you probably all though. I've just been extremely busy. I keep having to repeatedly say to myself "I love a levels" about 32 times a day, just to stop me loosing my mind. I can't actually remember if I told you this in my last post, it was so long ago (Esh, sorry...), but I have dropped the dreaded subject that is chemistry! A Levels are SO much easier only having to tackle three of them. But anyway, thats not what I'm going to talk to you about today...

You know how most teenagers, once they get to the age of 16 or 17, start to want making a little bit of money, and get a part time job? Notice the singular term there? A part time job. Singular. Well, avoiding the norm, as I love to do, I have TWO part time jobs. Youth unemployment, my arse. Two part time jobs, plus three a levels. I want to weep. 

So my first job is in the lovely NHS. For those lovely readers who live outside the UK, I'm really not sure how much you know about the british health system, but we don't pay insurance, we just get everything for free. It all comes from taxes. And like most other first world countries, we're also in a recession, economic downturn, blegh, how ever you want to say it. That means that we, the great british public, pay more taxes. So how come a humble cleaner, or 'Domestic Assistant' such as myself can get paid over £14 an hour to empty bins? I don't mean to be ungrateful, but as a 16 year old, if you paid me £5 an hour, I probably wouldn't complain. David Cameron, I hope you're taking notes. Tax payers, your hard earned money that you think is going toward improving the deficit, helping our lovely greek buddies, or buying Nick Clegg some choccy biscuits to have with his cup of tea (we are british after all), is in fact in my pocket, going towards a lovely pair of shoes I spotted in Topshop the other week. This is why I like David Cameron. 

Now, my second job. I'm quite proud of this one, I will admit. The other week, while worshiping the lovely shoes I mentioned above, in Topshop, I was approached by a lovely person from Hollister. I am now a 'model' in Hollister. I'm aware that this is probably a much bigger deal in America, but here in the UK, I'm still kind of amazed that I was picked. For those who don't know what Hollister is, its the daughter brand of Abercrombie&Fitch. You know the store that has topless boys standing outside that make you want to cry over their abs? Yea, that one. Basically Holister is Abercrombie's rebellious daughter, who goes to beach parties a lot. Thats how I would describe it anyway. So, what does being a 'model' actually mean? Well, notice how I keep putting the term 'model' in little floating things? I'm not actually a model. I'm a sales assistant with a fancy title. Apparently we're called 'models' so the company can get away with making us dress a certain way. When I log onto their employee website, their is a two page 'look policy'. As far as I'm aware, if I dye my hair, or cut it without them having prior notice, I die. Or get sacked. Yaaaaay.

Now, back to the political side of things. I'm 16 years old, with two jobs. Normally 16 year olds don't pay tax. Normally 16 year olds with a part time job don't pay tax. But a 16 year old who has two part time jobs, earning over £300 a month? They pay tax. I feel grown up. So I pay taxes, and taxes pay for the NHS, and the NHS pay for me. I'm basically paying myself to work. If A Levels worked like this, I'd be much more motivated...

Well, exams start on Monday, so I'm not going to promise that I'll write soon. But I shall give you an update when I can. For now, byeeeeeeeee.....