If you read my latest blog post, you’ve probably been wondering where the bloody hell I’ve been hiding for the last few weeks…
I come out with something about being more than a P45 (you can read that motivational spiel here) and then disappear like the back of an earring on a grey marl carpet?
Soz, that’s very hyperbolic isn’t it, it’s only been two weeks but I feel the absence fellas and I’ve been desperately trying to find time to sit down and weave a web of words together but it turns out looking for jobs is not just a 9-5. It’s a full time position and I gotta tell ya, I need a PA up in here.
I had hoped to lay down some grand plans with all this ‘free time’. Grand plans of getting ripped abs and an arse that doesn’t spill out in several different directions every time I sit down, like the floating heads in Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody. You ok, hun?
I’ll get up at 6.34am every morning to work out like one of those Candice Swanepoel types, only if she’s Lululemon, then I’m whatever the Peacocks version is of that. Is there anything sexier than a middle parting so stuck to your own head that you start to resemble a sweaty beaver moon? Didn’t think so.
Nearly a month of being jobless and look who’s over here barely making it out of bed before 9am and starting to get alarmingly attached to Nadia Sawalha of the Loose Women. You guessed it fellas, that would be me.
As much as living my best life sofa-side is great and everything, having no routine feels very w-e-i-r-d.
I’ve got no obligation to be anywhere, ever. I can eat Jelly Tots for breakfast if I want and no one will call me out for it.
If I want to stay up all night on a Sunday and weep over the great barrier reef until my eye bags are bluer than a damp cheesy J cloth, then I can be my own guest.
Hell, if I want to go and spend the afternoon playing with wands in the new wizardry shop in Brighton, then I can.
The truth is, I’m not entirely comfortable with it, lads.
Unhappy is the wrong word because, well, who couldn’t admit to appreciating endless lay ins, no dark ‘n’ dank commute and tea breaks whenever you want them? But it’s definitely making me realise how much of a life altering experience redundancy really is.
It’s completely different to leaving a job voluntarily, mainly because ya know, you’ve already worked your notice, had time to slam a few tequillas back with your soon-to-be old work pals and got another job lined up.
Redundancy, more often than not, is not your decision and for that reason it becomes incredibly hard to comprehend exactly how you’re feeling about it.
Everything is thrown into a state of flux and yeah, on one hand it’s exhilarating and liberating but it’s also f*cking terrifying.
In my instance, it was very sudden.
We were told on a Friday, had final meetings on the Monday, packed up our things and left. Never to be seen again. And that’s so detrimental to a little pal over here called closure *impossible to say without doing a Rachel Green impression*
Ya see, there is none.
You’ve got to make sense of it v. quickly and learn to navigate your way around it as best you can, even when you don’t have a background in ‘how to sail a sh*t storm’.
From rewriting cover letters 109 times, to editing your CV and going to interviews *shudder*, it’s truly a time when you doubt yourself the most.
Over the next few months, I’m going to have to face a whole heap of new experiences and challenges: rejection emails, good interviews, bad interviews, salary negotiations, job seeker’s allowance, judgement and I don’t care what anyone says, at any age, that’s always going to be scary af.
I’ve only ever had one interview in my life. Ever. And that was for an intern position, so in actual fact you could argue I’ve never had a *proper* job interview before. And this is making me feel better how exactly?
Well, in a round about way it is making me feel better because it means I can afford to cut myself some slack here and be kinder to myself.
And I don’t just mean using the redundancy hall pass to eat and buy whatever my heart desires, though admittedly, using said hall pass is exactly what I’ve been doing every single day so far, lol.
Ok yeah, something crappy happened to me and to my work friends and yeah, I’m new to this looking-for-a-job job, but in order to move forward, surely the first thing I need to do is stop belittling myself?
Feel the fear but don’t feel it quite so much that you feel like you could develop mild agoraphobia at any minute and just live within the four corners of a duvet forever more.
I need to learn to push the soft pedal and mute those voices that tell me I’m not good enough and that I don’t stand a chance out there in the media minefield.
We all have a unique combination of meaning and purpose and not everyone is going to be able to break the code for it, nor see that it was open for the taking but that doesn’t mean you’re not still a meaningful combination of stuff. Good stuff.
I’ve had some really exciting enquiries over this thing right here – the humble blog – which is incredible and I’m so proud that brands are even aware of me – just a girl that overshares a lot and writes about it sometimes – let alone want to collaborate with me. Holy mackerel.
Ya see, redundancy, like a lot of other things filed under the Department Of Hard Life Stuff, is kinda like the equivalent of the table cloth being ripped out from underneath your ten green bottles.
And if one green bottle should accidentally fall then there’s nothing left on the table and you might just turn into the Grinch and start eating glass or summin’ crazy.
It massively knocks your confidence. But the good thing is, like anything, the worst has already been and gone and this is but a moment in the rest of my life.
Which brings me to you and your life.
Whatever’s going on in your life, I think it’s so important that we stop to have that inner-chat with ourselves every now and again.
To just take a moment to pause and actually listen to how you’re feeling at this present moment. It doesn’t have to be dramatic or exaggerated, it just has to be something; a reflection.
It’s such a simple task but my guess is that hardly any of us actively prioritise making time for our minds ‘cos… we’re too busy getting on with life innit. Schedules, to-do lists, socialising – all of it is more important than being a good pal to your loyal noggin.
We go to the gym, we beat ourselves up for cancelling that HIIT class and eating crap at the weekend, but if we neglect to turn up when our minds kinda need us, we’re like, never mind, she’ll cope.
Seriously, how are you?
It’s such a habitual part of conversation isn’t it? So much so that we have all learned this stock response that flies out of our mouths like those gold fly things in The Green Mile, and before we know it we’ve already said ‘yeah, fine thanks, how are you?’.
We haven’t even thought about it for a tiny second. How irresponsible.
But are you fine or are you just, ok – a flat beige. Or are you vibrant and energised like an orange egg yolk – sunny side up. Or are you perhaps an imbalanced blue colour, undecided about how you’re meant to be translating your emotions right now?
It’s not always easy for us to communicate exactly how we’re feeling with words alone, which is why I’ve learned that colour can be a really useful way of reading and understanding your mood *better* – s/o to Fearne Cotton and her Happy book for that one.
She calls it a reflection rainbow and I think it’s a pretty f*cking fabulous idea.
So, since you’re reading this now and since you might close this post and just get back to unclogging your hair from the shower plug or food prepping (hopefully with washed hands if it’s in that exact order) and never think about how you’re feeling ever again, I’m going to take the liberty of asking you on your behalf, for the good of your future self:
How
Are
You?
Love you bye.
Photography by Olivia Foley
