Three weeks ago I quit my job and moved back to London. This was a total no-brainer: stay in York, harbour an ever-growing hatred for my parents (the people that bought a house so small Middle Earth-roaming hobbits would spit on the doorstep before squating therein), work extremely hard at a horrible job in a horrible company for the pitiful wage the government thinks I deserve, OR move to the big city and give myself a chance of happiness.
Shocker isn't it?
So here I am, back in my home-away-from-home in the gorgeous Mile End. The only pickle, if ever there was one, was my thereafter lack of income. Despite the fact that I am lucky enough to be lodging with people who offer me an extremely reasonable rate of rent, as the old saying goes, money don't grow on trees.
Therefore unsurprisingly, I've spent the last few weeks frantically applying for jobs. And it hasn't been all too pleasant. There's nothing like rejection from positions you thought you were perfect for to make your life seem altogether crap. Regardless, I remained my picky self and avoided going for jobs unless I was sure I wanted them. Nobody wants to be stuck in a job they hate, and until I get really desperate neither do I.
Maybe another problem has been the dilemma of having too many interests. Either I'm really arrogant and think I love and know more about everything than everyone else, or I have a genuinely wide range of interests. I mean take this blog for instance, I was certain that I should follow my childhood dream of becoming a sports journalist, after all I do know a lot about most sports and it's a lifelong love of mine, so that's the line the blog took. But I soon realised that in doing that I was leaving behind so many other things I wanted to write about: fashion, music, books, everyday life. Is this where I've been going so wrong with jobhunting? Is my struggle to commit to one area or industry the reason nobody wants me? Is it the classic 'master of one' versus 'jack of all trades' scenario? The old sayings are coming thick and fast today. If only I'd thought about my degrees before I embarked on them, I might be qualified in something I actually want to do. Take note kids.
I was beginning to lose hope this weekend. It may have only been a few weeks since I quit my job, but I've been applying for better things since I finished my masters in September. That's 6 months of rejection.
But today, I got offered a job. And one I was sure I hadn't got. A really great part-time admin job that pays double what my last job did. And not only that, but I secured another two interviews at really interesting places: one an internship at an audio book publisher, and another an actual proper job in online marketing at a cosmetics company. (I'm thinking the latter would be a dream graduate job for me.)
So things are looking up. And the moral of the story is: don't give up. Not until you hit the depths of depression and are considered so mental that you're sectioned and homed in a clinic for no-hoper recession-plagued graduates that is. But I have evaded that fate, at least for the time being.
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