Wednesday, 5 February 2014

I quit my job, and things did not go to plan.

ambition, careers, quotes
This is the double edged sword of blogging, when you need to tell the stories you would rather ignore. But I learned very quickly that my experiences seemed to humanise my writing, and they gave people something to relate with. This isn't one of the worst things to happen to me- not by far, but it is part of the promise I made of documenting my progress.

To play you a little "previously on" montage, I quit a job I hated with all intentions of pursuing what I loved, and being okay with it if I had to go and get a job frothing coffees. I have been out of university for 18 months, with little to show for it except the skill of drawing a sometimes symmetrical shamrock in a pint of Guinness. I've had my share of rejection letters, and was all too excited when someone wanted to interview me for a job I actually wanted.

He said I impressed him, he said he was so impressed with me he would let me know of anything relevant to me. He said it was a couple of tiny details, like court reporting which I had not done. He said I was talented, passionate and enthusiastic. He said I would make a great feature writer someday. I had told him that I loved features, and so I thanked him gracefully. The word hung in the air like an invisible clasp around my entire identity. Someday.

I wasn't someone else's version of good enough. Insecurity, it's nice to meet you once again. When we don't get what we want our old friend doubt welcomes us back into it's gilded cage and there you will find that your old demons reunite for a party in your dishonour. I sincerely hope there is some sort of cake. It's all okay, though.

It felt like a string of bad luck had come back to taunt me after a tantalising taste of false hope. I felt like Rory Gilmore when she gets told she would make a great assistant. If I had access to a boat, I probably would have followed her example and stolen one, because I can be an awful brat when things don't go my way.

I waited a day to tell anyone, because I felt like everyone- especially Rhys, had put their faith in me and I had failed to deliver. Again. I couldn't even understand why I was so disappointed, the job wasn't my ideal fit and I knew that. But it was a start, even if it wasn't necessarily perfectly matched to me and I felt like I was more than a one trick pony. I couldn't waste time moping and I didn't, within moments of receiving that phone call I got back to what I was doing- I had a deadline to meet.

rory gilmore, coffee, sad
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Then this morning, my phone bill bounced. This was thanks to the company that I worked for not paying me my holidays that I am owed. I hit the rejection slump, but isn't this exactly what writers do? We self implode and it gives us the motivation we need to keep going. We extract what we feel into writing, we need it to establish control over the situation. I felt the chill of panic travel through me like the slick nausea of too much cheap vodka. I hadn't heard back from any other applications. For anyone wondering, no I don't now regret quitting my job. My happiness was more important, and the cruel dictatorship of my old job was nothing to brag about.

"So what are we, helpless? Puppets? No. The big moments are gonna come. You can't help that. It's what you do afterwards that counts. That's when you find out who you are.” 
- Buffy the Vampire Slayer

rainbow, puppy, boxer, pretty
Do twenty-somethings want it all? Do we feel like time is running out? Yes, because we did everything they told us to do, and now we can't seem to get onto the next page.  Stop making excuses, because you have to keep going even if you can't make it happen yet. Even if "someday" isn't today, or even tomorrow. I was so close.