(Btw, bare with me, this story moves incredibly fast and shows just how impulsive I can be. In the end, I’m super happy that I changed things up!)
I graduated from a BA this summer, and wanted to get in a year or two of work and get some industry experience. I sold out. After hundreds and hundreds of rejections and a few random data analysis assessments I decided to take a job in sales. I figured I could save some money and keep myself busy until something better came along.
I was working in a “shabby sheek” basement in Event Sales. There are so many jobs out there like this one, if you want my advice… Avoid it – unless you have a high threshold for constant high pressure situations. The people I worked with were nice enough & at times there was a lot of banter in the office – but I just knew I wasn’t there for the long run. I told myself to stay until I got paid my commission, (but that would mean 4 more months). I held in there for another month, and even convinced myself and my family members that I enjoyed my job, it wasn’t that bad, and I needed the money. That was my mantra.
Let’s be honest though, if you have to convince yourself that much to go against your true nature… GET OUT.
My body tried to tell me to get out of there. First, I started to get unbelieveably painful and light sensitive migraines… I went to an optician who gave me the weakest prescriptions I have ever heard of, and “anti-glare” protection. I hadn’t needed glasses before, so that was my first sign…
The basement had no natural light and over time, the once large open space had shrunk and been boxed off. Next, I started to feel physically tired and heavy in the mornings, and had to literally drag myself to work, shed a few tears and do the day. Complaining to my mum and my boyfriend that I was unhappy every now and then wasn’t enough for me to leave, but enough to blow off steam – oh how I wish I had taken action sooner.
One day, I decided I’d had enough. The turn over in the office was quite high, so I knew it wouldn’t be too odd if I left. And leave I did. Without too much fuss I bowed out and left it all behind me. I took the rest of week to recover, and my headaches stopped, I felt less tired and I returned to my bouncy self.
I’m a Writer, I can’t be anything else. I considered pursuing a Masters degree to postpone work and finally be done with formal education. So I applied; and in my infinite wisdom, (by which I mean none & extremly impulsively) I chose an LLM… Why? Did I want to be a lawyer now? I flirted with the idea of being a black Elle Woods (from Legally Blonde acted by Reese Witherspoon). I got accepted a mere 48 hours later for a start in 2 weeks.
Naturally I was flattered, I mean who wouldn’t be? My university thought I was capable and more importantly smart enough to do a Masters in Law?! I told a few family members who asked me what I hadn’t asked myself. You can always count on family to set you straight. Why Law? What are you going to do with that? Why Law Dams, what are you going to do with that?
Having packed and contented myself that I wanted this, I retired to sleep. But I couldn’t! What am I doing? My CV would reflect my impulsive nature & potentially confuse future employers. What would spending another 10k on this do for me? My hypercondria kicked in, and manifested itself in diagnosing what I would be as an LLM holder without an LLB. I decided I had to get out. Again.
I set my sights on change my programme of study. I made a case, and applied for an MA in English & American Literature instead. & I’m here now.