22 & not a clue

I've been cheating on my beloved blog with copy writing because copy writing pays - What a word slut I am.

One extreme to the next is my preferred third gear, uncertainty being a comfortable second and worry a very reliable first. I am quickly learning that fear of the future will freeze you to the spot if you let it. That procrastination is very expensive and most importantly that sitting on your hands is sometimes the only thing you can do.

With somewhat guaranteed well paid temping work in one hand but a potentially career building internship in the other which do I choose? To be frank the question is null as I have neither had the interview nor gotten the job. Like I said one extreme to the next is my third gear. Regardless, I have been tossing it around in this cavern of mine all weekend, have driven one boyfriend and one mother absolutely scatty with the matter and tied myself in knots.

Why? For the simple reason that I am so keenly aware that every step I take now may determine my career path further down the line. So whilst temping will pay well, put my mum's nagging to rest and ease my bank balance, it won't particularly help my career. I am having to sit on my hands, and I hate it. I am having to weigh it all up and make an adult decision which may shape things to come in ways I can't even imagine at this point in time

But then, every thing I have done with my life to date was uncertain to me at one point in time, or were the beginnings of adult decisions which shaped events that came after. What makes this moment of uncertainty unique to me is that it has never concerned my career before - probably because I have never had one. Now as I stand tentatively clinging to this bottom rung I am frozen in how best to proceed.

So I am off to this interview, I am going to smash it, give myself more options and then make a decision. Until then I will sit on my hands and continue to have hypothetical conversations with myself, or to the dishes, or maybe even at a wall. I always did like Shirley Valentine.

There is this viscious chicken or the egg paradox which comes with living in London. You can't get a flat without a job and getting a job is infinitely harder when you're sleeping on a friends sofa without your own flat. So when I lost my dream flat in Shepherds bush for the second time I realised I wasn't going to get it all. 

I have already been back in London a month. Most of which has been spent either sleeping on a friends sofa or in front of my battered cream (*grey) mac book scouring the net for either a home or a job. After many viewings of would-be drug dens & one dream adult-cream-carpeted-wooden-floored chick pad I got my dream home & I move in in under two weeks. Hurrah!