One month ago today I wrote this post.
I had just been informed that hibu would be undergoing some ‘restructuring’ which of course caused me (needlessly, it turned out) to fear for my life, as hibu is in fact my life – or has been for three years. Three years is only a little time, perhaps, but it spans my entire adult career. These are three years that have turned me from a panicking child into a professional writer.
On that day I got home, drank a glass of Perfectly Normal Tuesday Wine, and then decided to just shut up and apply for a job. I found one I felt summed me up and I applied for it. Three weeks and three interviews later, I accepted an offer. And now I have just two weeks left at hibu.
The youth club has come to an abrupt end and I’m about to be packed off into the outside world. Hopefully this means shaking off corporate life and becoming part of a team of like-minded colleagues; above all, it will be refreshing to actually TALK to people about marketing things without them TL;DRing me IRL.*
That said, I haven’t the words to express how grateful I am for the education I was allowed to mine from this company. At every turn there seems to have been a stroke of luck that I caught at just the right time, or an indulgent senior with a few spare projects and cheerfully poor spelling.
It’s my inner imposter that tells me this was all chance but obviously I know some hard work went into it (I was there). I had enough desperation to jump high at the right times, beyond what felt comfortable. It was quite horrid on occasion and made me shake, but I can truthfully say I didn’t miss a single opportunity.
And now it’s over. I can’t even make myself understand what that means. I’m about to move on to a position that wasn’t given to me because I was lurking around, smiling hopefully. I’m so excited but I just really hope I’m as good as I allow myself to believe in the golden times of the day, when I’m typing fast and I feel like a queen.
Here’s to doing what scares you.
(You only have to look at this guy’s gun collection and matching sweatband / pen holder combo to see why I’ve chosen him to sum up my feelings around career motivation. By the way, Googling ‘inspirational GIF’ is a good way to make you hate every living creature.)
* Mam: On the internetz, TL;DR means ‘Too Long; Didn’t Read’ (for shaming long and boring comments/posts) and IRL means ‘In Real Life’ (the life that is not on the internetz). Both are used here for irony, to emphasise the glazed attitude towards my passion for Flesch-Kincaid and debating the Oxford comma.