work

Yes, I’m getting a job. And not just one of those hypothetical ones either, but a real full-blown apprenticeship, complete with gruelling hours, shitty pay and inconvenience of being away from the small child for the first time in my life, not to mention the fact that there are currently no child-care spots available in, oh, the whole of the state of Victoria. But hooray! I’m joining the real world, and even though I’m still only in the process of walking in and trying to get places interested, boy does it feel good. I’m looking into doing a first year in hairdressing, which will mostly involve sweeping oily hair clippings, making coffee and washing the hair of various little snots, but I don’t mind. I’ve been cutting my own hair since I was 14, and getting hideously experimental since the age of 16, so I figure I should attempt to actually go somewhere with it, even if for nothing else but the joy of knowing what I’m doing when I take a pair of scissors to my boyfriend’s head.
Last week I plucked up some major balls and walked into BIBA Academy (yeah right, start at the top, kiddo) because they had a sign up looking for 1st year apprentices and just said “I want a job. I have no experience, so I don’t really need a resume. I’ve been raising my daughter for the past 2 years and I want to get into working now. I love hair, I’ve been cutting my own forever. I don’t really fit in with a bunch of blonde Barbie dolls at your local suburban mall so I thought I’d try somewhere a little funkier.” The guy seemed genuinely interested, complimented me on my tattoos, and said while he thought he might already have someone lined up, took my number and details anyway. While I’ve completely given up on the idea that he’ll call me, it did give me a good little buzz, and set me on the track that there’s not a huge amount of point in applying at Cheap Cuts R’ Us down the street. They’re going to take one look at me and run for the hills. I don’t want to work somewhere where the customers walk in, look at my hacked hair and ink and say “Can someone BESIDES that girl cut my hair?” I’m not gonna go anywhere in the industry working somewhere like that. The guy who occasionally cuts my hair when I need a real haircut, Hayden, suggested the same thing, that I just cruise Lygon and Brunswick Street and poke my head in anywhere that looks cool.
So wish me luck, kids. Next stop, Synergy!

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