Mistakes.

Today, most of the people I started university with got their final degree classifications (well done everyone!) and I had a job interview. So the buzzword for the day really has been all about careers and lives and like ... the future and stuff. You know, that massive dark cloud of uncertainty, fear and despair hanging over my entire generation?

It got me thinking about what makes a good career, a good life, and whether there is a formula for success.

Career-wise, whenever successful people and celebrities are interviewed on TV about their careers, they always seem to say that they just fell into it. ‘Lucky bastards’ I used to wail in my head. ‘Don’t be so modest; stop pretending that everything in your life was so unexpected. Give me the key, the EXACT WAY you got your EXACT LIFE.’ These days I tend to think that they were probably telling the truth. Few people do exactly what they wanted to do when they were in school. I also think that it’s a good thing there isn’t a key, because I don’t really want to be Sporty Spice any more. My 9 year old self could have fast-tracked me on to X-Factor by now … ew. 

This last year, things didn’t turn out the way I had planned. All my deliberation and reasoning around my decision to leave New York circled around the idea of thinking about not just what I want now, but what is best in the LONG RUN. Whether or not in 10 years’ time, I would look back and think that I was stupid to leave.

But I’m not sure that this is necessarily the right way to look at things. The more time that passes since I left, the smaller the event seems. As more stuff happens, that decision becomes less and less relevant to my life. I think in general, in the actual ‘long run’, things matter less. Getting over the initial hurdle of rearranging your life is a big deal, but I reckon that individual moments are, as a rule, rather insignificant in our lives. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t scrutinize and think long and hard about big decisions that we make. -Actually, yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. If it’s the best move at the time, worrying about whether it will still be the best move in ten years’ time is silly, because it ten years’ time it will be in the past. I'm so bored of second guessing my 30 year old self. That’s why left New York. And why I got a tattoo.

It’s pretty much a standard assumption that last year I made a ‘mistake’, giving up an exciting and important career opportunity. My decision has been one I’ve never publicly justified, and one I don’t defend a lot even in private. I think I need to, because I don’t regret it and I really don’t want people to think that I do, or to feel sorry for me.

I think mistakes (if you want to call them that. Although I prefer the term 'detours') are great. They make life more interesting, they make you more interesting, and they keep you on your toes. I hope I make many more. Working consistently within the realms of the reasonable, safe and practical can, I suspect, lead to more regret than a few unexpected debts or compromised living situations. I refuse to be submissive to some fictional, world-weary middle aged version of myself. One who everyone seems to be trying to convince me will be disapproving and regretful of all the irresponsible actions I make that stop me getting a respectable career. People have been warning me of her inevitable arrival since I first sat in a GCSE classroom. At what point do I begin to turn into this killjoy future-me? Probably about the same time I start answering to her.

I suppose what I’m saying is, in the wake of this imposing dark cloud, full of unemployment statistics, living wage figures, pay gaps and Ian Duncan Smith, I refuse to go corporate out of fear. 

Just a Little Note Before the Year's End

It’s the last day of 2012, and I’m finally sitting back infront of my laptop and writing. It’s been a very long time. Sorry everyone. Before I wish you all a VERY happy new year and all that, I’ll give you a quick round up of the last few months of my life. 

This Winter I Have:

è Left my internship post at BritishAmerican Business, New York, leaving behind many awesome people and unbelievable career opportunities.

(Much as I appreciate the total, unbelievable, super-fantastic-ness of the experience I was cutting short, not one sad goodbye was said. Since landing back in the UK neither of my feet feels the least bit shot at, and I am happy and safe in the knowledge that I will never be a high-powered business woman. I don’t miss America at all. If anything - and I know this sounds bad – it’s become even more of a strange and distant land, which I regard with no emotional attachment at all; just morbid fascination, curiosity and occasionally the tiniest amount of sick in the back of my throat. The amount of syrup they put on their waffles – and their bacon – is a little too much for me. As is the general optimism and happy confidence in the people. No bad feelings, America, you’re just not my place).

 è Worked lots and lots, to make lots and lots of money

The slight problems with leaving early from a year-long placement abroad are the costs incurred.  Needing to pay back the money spent on my visa for the time I won’t be using it, and buying rather too many flights on rather too few student loans payments has left me sitting in my overdraft, with a cool sum of about £1200 in debt.

è Moved back to my hometown, saw my friends, family, ate Christmas dinner and generally got back into the swing of England life (obviously starting in the pub).

It feels really good to be home. I don’t mind the rain. I don’t mind how awful the buses are. I don’t mind not having my own place to live. I don’t mind everything being shut by 6pm. I like the comfortably silent London underground. I like the BBC. I like chip shops. I like that I haven’t put on a pencil skirt or blazer in 5 weeks. I much prefer working any and all shifts that Waterstones St Albans will give me to working 4 days a week in an office, getting stepped on in stiletto heels and being told to ‘mingle’.

So not having to go back to New York has really made this Christmas for me. I’m just about to go out and see in the New Year with friends, beer and takeaway. In contrast to my usual, chronic cynicism concerning New Year’s Eve, I’m getting a bit tingly and excited. I will probably be merrily shouting along to Auld Lang Syne with the rest in 6 hours’ time, giving my hands to all my trusted friends, and anyone else who walks past, having downed many a cup of kindness. I’ve loved seeing and hugging and nibbling and tippling with all the people I know and like, and hope 2013 will be equally weird but a little less stressful than 2012.

So expect many more posts in 2013. As I’m now unemployed and not again planning to persue any careers unsuited to me, I should have much more time to wast- I mean, write. 

Merry Super Happy New Year everyone!!!!!

A small Christmas present to my hometown:

Central Ave, Brooklyn