So thus far I’m not allowing myself to use the word “hate” or to cry, but… well, it hasn’t been great.
I’m really trying not to whip myself up into a frenzy, but I just don’t think this is me. I spent yesterday pinioning what should be 400 or 500-word stories into 100 and 150-word straitjackets. At one point I had to go over to the art department to plead for an extra line for a salad recipe.
“Not with this layout,” said the art person.
“Well, I trimmed the instructions but I can’t cut the ingredients,” I said. “If I don’t get an extra line this isn’t going to be a winter salad with squash and pomegranate vinaigrette – it’s just going to be salad greens!” (I got the extra line.)
I have to write headlines in literally six characters or less, which is – if you’ve ever seen the American game show Wheel of Fortune – making me want to ask if I can buy a vowel. People keep commenting on what a huge project management job my job is, and that is SO not me – I’m a writer. I don’t give a toss whether X recipe has been sent off for nutritional analysis or if we’ve got copy in for the lipstick smackdown or, quite frankly, whether last month’s contributors have been paid. (I know, I know – I’d care if it were my check that was delayed!)
Sigh. Yesterday, my first day, I worked until after 8 pm (had pages to close) and did nearly burst into tears wondering – as I did a lot in the days before I left London – what exactly prompted me to make this decision.
But here I am, and I’m trying to make the best of it (see “not using the word ‘hate’” above). But I just joined a gym today (been using my aunt’s card) and noted in my year’s contract that there was a get-out clause if I move more than 25 miles away from the nearest branch. I’m pretty sure they don’t have any in London…
I haven’t binged, thanks partly to many reminders to myself that eating more will not make things better or easier (or make me less tired). The clean eating is also thanks to the proximity of a Gourmet Garage that sells foods I’ve eaten before (so tired and overwhelmed that it’s easier to just grab the familiar rather than investigate). I’m sure at other times the proximity will be dangerous (they sell all sorts of yummy-looking treats), but one foot in front of the other…
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You poor thing. It was always going to be a shock to the system, and things are always hard at first. Just put one foot in front of the other. You might end up enjoying it, and if not, move back to London. Nothing is irreparable.
ReplyDeleteI want that recipe - sounds delish!
ReplyDeleteHang in there - it's always horrid at first. Missing you....
Px
I feel for you, I really do but......chin up old gal
ReplyDeleteFi xx
This sounds a lot like what I haven't enjoyed about my current job, and what I already know I won't like about my new one. Too much project management, people management, whenI just want to DO THE WORK.
ReplyDeleteBUT -- it is only week 1 and things will get better. Remember that you can do anything for a year, and you'll come out a more experienced writer for having done it. I put in 18 months here and I knew in week 1 that it wasn't the right place for me -- sure, there were good times, but most importantly, I LEARNED a ton by toughing it out...
It will be okay.
And seriously? a 6 character headline!?
Big hugs to you, sweetie. I'm so sorry you're getting a rocky start. Truly though, every job I've ever had has seemed overwhelming and awful at first. After a few weeks, you get into the groove.
ReplyDeleteI just know this will turn around, and I'm praying for you (because that's what I do). :)
Starting a new job is no fun, especially when it involves moving to a new city. Drop me a line when you feel like it -- maybe we can have a tea (or you can have a tea, and I'll have coffee ;-)
ReplyDeleteI'm thinking of you--do what feels right and joy will follow. Hugs to you!
ReplyDeleteI hope you are hanging in there, it sounds like hell but I hope it is on the up. Thinking of you xx
ReplyDelete