Katie Mccullough Talks and Writes

Words will get written here and some videoblogs will appear. You don't have to look but it would be nice if you did.

Being Brutally Honest With Myself June 16, 2010

I’ve always been a busy person, always taking on more than I can manage but it’s the way I am and the only way I know myself to be. Thinking back to as far as I can go I’ve always managed to juggle a lot more than thought capable from one person. As my boss said to me when I started a fair few years ago, “if you want something done, give it to a busy person“.



It’s times like these when I think back to my secondary school and detest the days I had PE, my violin lesson and cookery on the same day. Not just metaphorically would I be juggling but actually swinging stringed instruments and masses of boxes and bags (which normally contained eggs and milk). I’d be cramming them on to the school coach fighting for a seat and heavy with the burden of the day ahead. That’s not to mention the rehearsals I’d have at school, in other schools and groups in other towns – the social life I had as a child which I now crave as an adult – the dance classes – the acting exams – the writing of plays as a small child – the voracious reading habit I conjured as a child which I’ve now lost – the cinema trips which now put me to shame … the list goes on. I’m oddly melancholic and miss my childhood because for some reason I seemed to have more direction back then. I wanted to be an actress and I did everything I could to say I was. I barely stood still long enough for people to ask me to do something, I was already there and doing it.


Recently I’ve found myself doing a lot of running and not standing still. Almost running on the spot and I look back at the week and wonder what the fuck I’ve been doing. The time zones of the weekend slow right down and I have to wallow in my royal blue uniform and serve people with a smile which 90% of the time is genuine for both Saturday and Sunday. I get so motivated and intensely engrossed in my own work that I falter in other areas. As a consequence I do fall into the trap of being emotionally retarded at times. Having such a lack of social life and concentrating on my own work with no one to forcibly make me do nothing and relax can make for a dull Katie. But once again it’s the trap I’ve fallen into. Being in a creative field where the only person to put you up for something is yourself can prove tricky because I always feel like I’m never doing enough. And I know I am, to a degree, paving the way for better things. But with no real sense of time and accomplishment the nights get longer and the fingers tap faster.



I was discussing with a close friend the other day the notion that I’ve worked Sundays for the past seven years. For me the weekend denotes a strong sense of work because it’s the boring job I have to do to get me a bigger jar of pennies. People look forward to the weekend and I look forward to the week. It’s painful and tedious and all other expletives but it gives me the money which doesn’t last long. At uni if I wasn’t working one job on the Saturday/Sunday it would be one of the others that took its place (Ann Summers/Decadence/Ryman/Other job…). I’m a self confessed workaholic, I fully admit it. Whilst at university studying hard for my degree I held down five jobs to keep me afloat in money terms.


And once again I find myself in a position where I’m holding down five jobs most of which I love and cherish and still that one that gives me more pounds lingers around. Because financially it’s keeping me doing something, I wouldn’t say comfortable as I’ve not seen the black since before I went to university. Recently I made a big decision which has taken me over a year to reach. I’m going to be claiming my Saturdays back from the clutches of retail and giving myself a whole 24 more hours to work. Like I say, a workaholic. Although I’d love to stamp out Ryman completely I’d be foolish to give up the Sunday that gives me the more money. And I’m very much a person who has to keep looking back self-referentially to understand how far I’ve come. So come back round a year I’m hoping this will be one of my wise decisions and that I’ve been brutal enough with myself. It’s not a complete scrub out, but it’s a start. One that I’m equally sickened and excited by.



One Response to “Being Brutally Honest With Myself”

  1. […] Ask me how many… July 2, 2010 Filed under: Musings/Film,Theatre and writing,fun gubbins,scriptwriter,young writer — katiemccullough @ 4:19 pm Tags: Broken Social Scene, Counting down like a bint, eight, FREEDOM!, I am proud of myself yes who wouldn't be, Looking like a twat for my art, maybe you…, oh, Saturdays, weeks … Saturdays I have left to work before I do them no more? […]

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