After getting down to the final two for an editorial assistant position, I was very disappointed yesterday; when I found out I’d been pipped to the post by my competitor. A tearful conversation with my mum followed, with her saying, “why don’t you be a teacher”.
If ever there were a comment to pull me out of my sorrowful depression, this was it. Yes, of course I could go and be a teacher, civil servant or something equally as boring. It is in fact, without sounding superior, what a lot of struggling graduates end up doing, when the reality of chasing their dream slaps them in the face. But after 3 years of studying for a degree, and further 2 years of struggling towards my goal, I’m not quite ready to give up yet.
I remember being around seven or eight years old when I wanted to be a ballet dancer, farmer and author. I can still say that at the age of 24, the ballet and farming went out the window but writing is still there as the only real thing I want to do in life.
The only problem is that getting in to a competitive industry is bloody hard, but only makes it even more attractive. The job I went for paid a pitiful £12,000 but the interview process was still followed by a writing test and a nerve wracking 3 week wait. To then find out you haven’t got it, is just very, very depressing.
They say that good things come to those who wait, and hopefully that also rings true for those prepared to work their arses off – for free no less, all for the sake of their art. In the mean time I will carry on the path to following what I really want in life, and as the debt gets bigger and the dream even harder to obtain, I’ll keep the fear of becoming a teacher firmly in sight.