What If I Do? What If I Don't?

I am waiting for a phone call. A phone call to tell me whether I have a job. I had an interview on Friday for an administrative post in Human Resources at a hospital. I worked there for a while as a temp and I thoroughly enjoyed it. I am not used to enjoying my job or liking the people I work with! I have always said I do not want to work in Human Resources.

I don't. 

But I am taking this opportunity to apply for a job I don't hate while I work towards the work I DO want. I cannot see myself achieving anything while in a stressful situation. I need to feel happy in myself or I will not get anywhere with my studies, which is why I walked out of my last job eight months ago. 

I think the reason I feel terrified of being offered a permanent position is that the last permanent position almost ruined my life. And I have been out of work for so long I don't know how to do this. 

Obviously, the reason I am terrified of not being offered the post is... what do I do then? I have had enough of relying on my parents. The idea of asking my parents for money makes me feel ashamed of myself. I want to make them proud. How can I do this if they are having to support me? They tell me it's ok but it's not. It's really not. Regardless of how they feel it is ripping me apart. 

All Aboard!

I have been thinking about applying for an admin job on a cruise ship. I saw an ad on a job site and thought it could be interesting. Yes it would still be admin, but the scenery wouldn't always be the same! I have been weighing up the pros and cons and to be honest, there are very few cons. I would be earning more money than I am now, I could still keep my flat, being at sea I would have less opportunity to spend money...

But I would be stepping far, far out of my comfort zone. I would be leaving town, leaving the country, for long periods of time. I am excited but terrified. But I think it's something I need to try. Also, if I am to start my Open University course it will give me more time to study without the usual distractions of home life.

I am talking myself into it. I should be talking myself into it.

My mother moved to Kenya 6 years ago. Sold her house and left. I try to imagine the emotions she must have felt... This way I won't be leaving the country, I will just get to travel. Could I handle months at sea?

There is one way to find out... take the plunge! (not literally!)

Search Filters

Today I am wrapped in a blanket in my 'library' (the room dominated by my bookshelf), applying for as many jobs as possible. When I job-search online I always put 'filters' on - find me positions in these specific areas. I haven't done that today. Why limit myself? Yes, I have had to trawl through hundreds of jobs, but I don't want to miss out because something slips through the filters.

Had I discounted clinical roles my search would have been a lot quicker. I do not understand who would want to work in medicine. I have the greatest respect for these people but I cannot (do not want to) imagine it myself. I have enough trouble talking to someone on the phone. If they came in crying and covered in blood I think I would run screaming in the opposite direction!

Far too much pressure for me.

Give me books or paper and I am in heaven. Unfortunately the jobs I have found in libraries are either qualified positions or do not pay enough, although part of me is tempted to sell everything and live in a box so I can afford to earn pittance, just for the sheer pleasure of working in the environment I was born for.

I am currently awaiting a phone call from the Open University to discuss funding for my Humanities Course starting in October. I am fizzing with excitement at the prospect of learning! I enjoy reading non-fiction but to study with a purpose will give me the focus I am lacking. I do wish I could afford to go to university full-time - to be immersed in education, but circumstances prevent this.

Oh well, on with the search!

26

The thought occurred to me at my salsa class this evening that, for years I have been the youngest at the salsa club, and now there are girls the best part of a decade younger than me, they are not as shy as I am and they can move in ways I cannot. I am jealous and I do not like it.

I have occasional moments when I realise I am not 18 any more. I am 26. When will this sink in? Over a quarter of a century. I need to sort myself out. The old line "I'm not getting any younger" is starting to play a lot on my mind. Some of my friends are married and contemplating children. That blows my mind.

I am stuck in a stop-gap, desperately searching for a direction. A direction away from a desk would be preferable. Every problem I have stems from that desk and sometimes I just want to slap myself for returning to it day after soul-destroying day. One day, hopefully not far down the line, I will have a job I love. There must be one out there somewhere...

At the end of March I can apply for financial funding for an Open University Course in Humanities starting in September. I am incredibly excited. To have something to occupy and expand my mind will be fantastic, and to have a degree would be a dream come true.

Dream Job

Some people suggest using ones own experience to find inspiration but at present I feel my experience is what is preventing me from doing so. I have such wonderful things to write about, but the one thing choking my mind is my job and as this is where I spend most of my days it is overshadowing everything else. It is soul-destroying.

When I left school the Head of English told me she could see me as Curator of the British Museum. Eight years later I saw this teacher again and she remembered what she told me that day. I felt utterly and completely ashamed to admit that I work in an industry completely unrelated to my passion - books.

How did I end up here? A good day at work is one in which I do not burst into tears or have someone yell at me. Surely that is not right? Is it any wonder I feel so lost in my own head?! It has reached the point that I am now not looking for my dream job - I am looking for any job, which just means I will end up in the same situation a few months down the line.

Is there such a thing as a dream job? I have a couple of friends who love their work, who couldn't imagine anything they would rather be doing. I am in awe. It is hard to believe that such jobs exist. Where are they?

People laugh or look uncomfortable when I tell them I want to be a librarian - I may as well have a chicken on my head for the reactions I receive. Who would want to spend their days around musty old books? I would. Desperately. But just as there is something blocking my creativity, it seems the same force is preventing me from finding my dream job, where I can thrive and find myself.

Let the search truly begin...