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On getting a part-time job

Last year I said farewell to a career I had built over fourteen long, challenging, rewarding and ultimately, fulfilling years. It was a terrifying decision. One I thought would haunt me in the days, weeks and months to follow. 

Instead, I tasted the freedom of no longer being defined by a nine-to-five office job, of no longer being trapped by a 'career'. Once I landed in the UK and cobbled together an alternative existence built around writing, walking the streets of London, and having lunch when I felt like it for as long as I felt like it (legit, it's the little things), I waited for the inevitable crack. I absolutely expected that at some point, when I was feeling unanchored, I would long for my old office life. For the routine, for the stability, for the regular salary. The crack never came. I found fulfilment in 100 well-written words and in 10,000 steps walked. I had finally, finally found my true calling. Or, at least, I was happy with this next chapter of my life.

All went along swimmingly until the soft cries of my bank account and credit card reached a crescendo I could no longer ignore. And so with the New Year came a new challenge. The challenge of looking for a part-time job.
Being back in an's what dreams are made of (and by dreams, I mean nightmares obvs)

When I left Melbourne, I was adamant that when I did, eventually, need work in England’s capital, I would search far and wide in pastures new. I would refrain from using my career contacts and jump into a completely new experience since that was the whole point of starting a new life in a new hemisphere. If I found a similar job in a similar company to what I had in Melbourne, what would have been the point of leaving?

And so, a few days into 2017, I began my job search in earnest and soon after had a job interview in a completely unknown field. How nervous I was walking into that room with the promise of a new adventure almost within reach!

I was told I’d have a slight wait ahead of me as they made their decision, and as I counted down the hours until that time, another job opportunity presented itself, quite without any help from me. It was a job within the field I had left behind in Melbourne, with one of those very contacts I had been determined not to use.

And so, I came to a fork in my London road. To the left was a completely new opportunity, outside my comfort zone, outside most of what I'd known a job to be. To the right was a job I knew as well as the back, front, side and tips of my hand. A job I could do with my eyes closed, and do well. (Oh the modesty!)

I desperately wanted to go left. I wanted the challenge, the excitement, of throwing myself into the unknown, just to see what would happened. I knew there was, in equal measure, the chance I could drown or swim.

The universe, however, had other plans.

Rather than dive into the unknown, I get to add a few more months onto that fourteen-year career. I can’t deny it’s nice to again be surrounded with the familiar, to be surrounded by the things, the people, that made my career fulfilling. (My bank account has also breathed a sigh of relief.)

But I can already feel the smallest of cracks. Now that I’m anchored, back into a routine, I have begun to long for that alternative existence I had created. I hope it doesn’t get snuffed out entirely. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see how the next few months unfold. 

Stay. Tuned.


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