Mackerel mist morning

I'm sorry, it's another back doorstep blip. But when life sends you skies like this first thing in the morning, and a busy day lies ahead, what's a girl to do?

Work was, as usual, incredibly full-on, though I am only there part time. Afterwards I rushed off to get the bus to Stonehouse, still trying to read Down and Out in Paris and London before the group started, because I had only got to page 40! My own stupid fault. I am enjoying it hugely, but didn't start when I should have done, 3 weeks ago. A lively discussion ensued at the lit/social history group, and I was quite tempted to hit someone sitting near me who could not comprehend what Orwell meant by describing some jobs as "useless", or begging as "work".

I thought later I could have told her about some of the jobs I've done which felt pretty damn useless to me, and the hours I spent hanging around the library, because it was warm and full of books, or the pound shops/charity shops, because I was between two low-paid jobs in different parts of the city, and there was nowhere else I could afford to go. But if I hit her, I'd probably be expelled from the Stonehouse library!

I think what Orwell meant by "useless" was artificially created jobs, such as being forced to sell matches instead of begging, or washing up for ten hours a day in a basement so that the middle management of the restaurant could dine in comfort in a separate room from their more lowly counterparts: jobs for jobs' sake. Soul-destroying work that barely produces a living wage. Jobs that have no dignity, where the vast majority of people look down on you for what you do. But, as I say, I have only read part of the book and skimmed the rest in 'class' today.

So now I must read my library book which is due back tomorrow, upon which I have accidentally dropped the iron, producing an interesting effect on the plastic cover; read the rest of Down and Out... before I forget the first 40 pages and the heated discussions; and read the first half of Rebecca by next Tuesday!

"last night I dreamed I read Rebecca AGAIN. It seemed to me I had read it before..."

Please excuse me for not commenting much last night, and probably won't tonight, either.
Next term's course is 'Reading Paintings 1600-1900". I'll probably sign up for that, as I never seem to spend much time looking at paintings when I go to galleries/exhibitions, because I've not been trained in the 'language', nor what to look for. As for 1600, I don't even know who was on the throne, or what constituted work, useless or otherwise!