Stream

When I was in my late teens, I went for a job interview at Sainsbury's. It was a group interview (oh, no) involving role playing exercises (kill me now). I managed to get through the store walk around, the individual interview, and pretending to be a cashier in the manner of a toddler at a play kitchen.

'I fancy something nice to go with these steaks,' the interviewer said to me, waving a packet of thin air in my face, 'do you have any suggestions for a wine to pair with it?'

No, I wanted to say, I'm eighteen years old! I don't know about wine! I don't even like wine! I don't think I've ever eaten a steak. I bumbled my way through the answer and left, dejected. And then, while I waited for my boyfriend to pick me up, I spotted a little shop a few doors down. In an uncharacteristic act of spontaneous bravery, I walked in and asked the manager if they were looking for staff. 'Yes!' she said. 'Do you have a CV?'

'Yes,' I said, producing one as if by magic (because I'd brought it with me to the other interview). I started the job the following week.

Every time I feel stuck, I think about that moment. Not because the job was good (I've never got on with retail. I can't convincingly pretend to care about loyalty card targets or whatever.) But because it acted as a reminder. I'd fixated on that job for weeks. I had decided that Sainsbury's was the way to go, the thing that was going to pull me out of unemployment and into some sort of income so I could have independence. And then I walked in and it was shit and I stumbled into a different job by happenstance. Sometimes you've just gotta let go and like, relax. Or something.

I thought about this today, as I crossed a bridge in Cheddar. The nicest day of the year so far, weather-wise. We were full of chips and heading back to the car. The stream rushed at rapid speed underneath us. I said to my son, 'you know, I could watch that stream all day. Pull up a cushion and just, like, chill there.' I couldn't actually do that because the foot traffic in Cheddar was mad and I would have caused an obstruction and tutting/eye-rolling. Also I needed a wee and the sound of the water didn't help.

Anyway. It's metaphor time! That's us, isn't it. A big rushing endless stream of humanity. All racing towards our deaths. (Hang on, this isn't turning out the way I wanted it to.) We're all so busy. We're like ants. I imagine it from heaven's perspective, in the clouds (theologically questionable) and sped up, Koyaanisqatsi-style. All going in the same direction, in the end. And then you zoom right in further, further, until you see me, taking a millisecond longer on the bridge than I should be, rubbing my aching temple and wondering if my son will be too big to hold my hand in public soon and cursing my weak bladder and thinking about death. Everything in my life has led me up to this point, and here I am. With the sun on my face and a head full of thoughts. When I put it like that, the idea of fixating on my job feels a bit stupid. Comical, even. Of course, that doesn't stop me from doing it, but at least I recognise when I'm blowing things out of proportion.

I started my degree a whopping nine years ago. (Well, technically eight; I did an access course first because my confidence was so low I had convinced myself I was too stupid to jump right into it.) I took a few years out in that time when I got particularly overwhelmed. I'd wanted to do this degree for almost a decade before I started it. I wanted to spend my days studying literature and the craft of writing. That was my absolute dream. I also wanted to start a family with Chris. That was my other absolute dream. I ended up doing both at once, which is not the most sensible thing but it does mean technically I'm living out double the amount of dreams at once.

Triple, actually! Because I became a writer for a job in that time, which was the OG dream I'd had since I was around seven years old. Back then I imagined I'd be writing dramatic children's books about natural disasters. Or twins. But you know, writing is writing.

So, yes. I've been living my triple dream for the last several years. Honestly, it's been ... like most dreams in reality. Lovely, but also stressful. High points: being able to pick my children up from school and attend every play and be there for every sick day, getting my first decent month of pay from my job, getting distinctions on my modules, winning literary competitions, getting nice feedback from editors. Low points: childcare issues, burnout, fatigue, crushing stress. Once I sobbed my way through an entire university tutorial (online, cameras off, obviously) because one of the kids really wanted me for bedtime and I was so tired I couldn't think straight. You know, ups and downs. But mostly ups.

And now I'm about to finish. In May, I will write my last academic essay. I will be done. I will have finished my mission to prove to myself that I am not, in fact, too stupid to do a degree. It was well worth it (although I could go into that another time). But now I face the terrifying blank-page question of what next?

Over the last few years I've watched quite a lot of sad things happening in the industries I happen to be somewhat involved in/adjacent to (the creative industries as a whole, and the games industry specifically). Lots of redundancies. Shock closures. 'Goodbye and thank you very much' posts on social media alongside 'I, an insanely talented and experienced person, am absolutely desperate for work' posts. It's extremely disheartening. I've watched opportunities drop off, and it feels like a shrinkening (linguistically questionable). It feels like the walls closing in slowly, slowly, and then suddenly all at once. I am constantly fretting about what I'm supposed to do next.

And then I watched this:

I always felt a bit like I'd done things the wrong way around. I knew so many people who did the whole study > travel > career > kids > retirement thing. When I was in my twenties I absolutely didn't know what I wanted. By the time I hit thirty, I already felt behind. And now I am absolutely surrounded by people who are my age and older and they do not have a clue what they are doing. Or, they've changed their minds. Or, there are circumstances out of their control shunting them down stream at a different trajectory. I am surrounded by people reinventing themselves whether by choice or by happenstance. People are divorcing, marrying, having babies, moving to different towns and cities and countries, switching careers, adjusting their lives around their health issues or the needs of their children or the needs of their ageing parents, all of it. Why did I ever think everyone had their shit together? We're just ducks with our feet scrambling under the water to stay upright. (Back to the stream again. I can drag out a metaphor for a long-ass time.) We're all feeling future-terror. Especially over the last few weeks. What kind of future are we talking about, anyway?

I don't know if I have it in me to be fully optimistic, but I do have it in me to be curious. Opportunities > fixed ideas. Tools > dreams. Maybe I'll go work in a hospital. Maybe I'll go work in a school. Maybe I'll make videos. Maybe I'll actually write that novel. Maybe I'll go into PR. Maybe I'll go and become a receptionist for a vet. Maybe I'll make interactive novels. Maybe I'll go into narrative design. Maybe I'll clean office buildings in the mornings and write short stories in the afternoons. I don't know yet. I'll find a way. Life always does.

But with all that said, I really need to knuckle down now. I want to honour the thing I started nine years ago. I'm also asking myself a few questions about life online and the downsides of needing to constantly produce Content. I'm not against it, necessarily. I love it sometimes. I just need a little newsletter break, and I'll be back when I've submitted that last essay and I can breathe a huge sigh of relief.

So ... see you soon. In the meantime, stay safe. <3