Wednesday, 15 June 2016

So I Quit My Dream Job

So the title makes this sound way more exciting than it actually is but for the purpose of this post I thought I should add some drama to this otherwise rather drab Wednesday afternoon.

So here's a little background for anyone that's interested.

A month ago I landed the job of my dreams, with a PR agency in London, a truly amazing company working with clients that I know and adore. Situated in a gorgeous central London converted town house with a vibrant, young team and even an office corgi puppy - absolute goals.
Admittedly, it was an apprenticeship so the pay left a lot to be desired and the coursework was less than appealing but all the same I was feeling pretty chuffed with myself.
Que me waltzing through London with a Starbucks in one hand and a copy of Stylist in the other.

Fast forward one month and I'm unemployed and I have absolutely no idea what I am doing with my life. 

I know, I know, quite a quick turn around.

I feel incredibly stupid. Why? Because how do you explain to yourself let alone anyone else that the thing you thought you wanted for over a year isn't actually making you happy. We all have that Monday morning feel, the one where you literally want to roll back over in bed and say F off to the world. This was more, this was me coming home, going straight to my room and crying because I was that unhappy, I felt trapped and I felt guilty for not loving every second of this amazing opportunity that I had finally been given. I had been told that my chances of being kept on once my apprenticeship had finished was incredibly likely, again, what more could I have wanted, it all sounded so perfect. 

I felt like I'd actually just failed at life, I had made so many changes for this job, I left my part time job at a theatre, which admittedly wasn't always fun and games but it paid for my car and the odd splurge in New look. I backed out of the holiday I had booked 6 months in advance because I couldn't take the time off. I just didn't want it, I thought I could stick it out for 15 months, get the qualification and leave. In an ideal world I would have done but in reality I couldn't, for anyone that doesn't know, PR is high stress. You've got to be loud, you've got to be confidant and you've got to be sure its your absolute passion, all of which I am not.

Jumping from part time to full time is something that takes a lot of getting used to, as lazy as this may sound I just don't think its for me. I don't do 6am starts and I don't do the central line on a Monday morning. Having to adjust yourself to a new working life is harder than anyone can prepare you for, my social life took a huge downward spiral and that got me down, my income plummeted and obviously there's no fun in that. I just had to question whether it was all worth it for a career that I couldn't see myself staying in.

Being the person I am I worry about everything 23,75800x more than is necessary, I stress over the tiniest thing and I hate people thinking badly of me, it cripples me knowing that I've let anyone down. I think in this instance I was aware that the only person I was letting down was myself.  I took two days off "sick" just because I couldn't face going in and admitting that I hated it. I used those days to really think through my options, I bought to life the idea of me actually not being there anymore and I loved it, no more stress, no more worry, no more 6am starts.

When you learn to realise that the job you had your heart set on just isn't what you thought it would be you don't want to spend 3 hours a day commuting, you don't want to eat dinner every night at 9pm and you don't want to spend a third of your wages on travel, why do that to yourself for something that you know you don't want?

So I quit. I left and although I currently have no income and no real direction, I'm happy again. Genuinely happy. I can't go and buy the Topshop Mom jeans that I so desperately want but I'm happy.

I didn't leave them in the shit don't worry, I worked out my last week and I even had a lovely little send off and I cried. Not because I was desperately sad to leave, I actually legged it home to be completely truthful but just because I was sad that it hadn't been everything I hoped for and more.

It turns out PR just isn't the one for me but I tried and now I know and for that I am proud of myself.