Well, I’m feeling better – kinda drained, but definitely better. Normal life has resumed transmission after a month-long break. It’s spring – the air is sweet and darkness sometimes brings night scents.
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I sat an exam on Saturday in an effort to gain an interview for a journalism traineeship. It was reasonable – my weakest areas are Arts and Sport – but the writing exercises brought a real challenge. Question 2: What’s your biggest mistake? Good lord – nasty question, that. I’m glad I didn’t have to tackle that one in a face-to-face setting. I would have fumbled for sure, possibly even muttering something about getting on the wrong bus or my regrets at not learning an instrument. As it was, ten minutes of concerted effort (which felt like oh, half a lifetime in the exam) conjured up the massive argument I had with one of my fellow editors towards the end of last year, an argument which had been brewing for months. After we finished savaging each other, we ended up at this bittersweet truce – the might have beens, the possibility of working together better had we tackled the issues we had with each other earlier on. It sounded a little twee, but I don’t know what else I could have nominated. That failed merger with ANZ? The line of chocolate rabbits in the late stages of myxomatosis which went down so well in the focus groups? My abortive glam-rock career? Difficult choices.
Anyway, the idea of work is freaking me out, as I may well have mentioned before. Especially journalism, the land of the workaholic drinkaholic. Would I still be able to have fun? (Apart from drinking to excess and talking shop). What about falling in love and mooning about? Is that permitted? See, my problem is that I haven’t as yet prepared a Work Personality – I generally try to make friends with my workmates and treat them as I would my friends, because I’m not great in terms of Professionalism. My dad goes to work as my dad, but once he puts on a white coat, he completely changes his personality – his voice doubles in volume, he becomes commanding and ultra-competent. Home, he’s relatively quiet, good-natured, friendly, his head a little in the clouds at all times. I’d like to devise some kind of work/home personality buffer, but I haven’t quite got there yet. While my personality does change at work, it’s not in the way I’d like. I’m meeker than normal, voice softer, more pliable. This shits me.
So, I’m not ready for work – but maybe I am. How can you know till you get there, I spose? I am a bit over uni, so maybe the solution is not more study, but dithering through travel. I figure if I travel now, I can scratch the itch good and proper so it doesn’t come back for a while. Current plan: 6 month working visa in Japan; teach English in Tokyo.
-----------------
I sat an exam on Saturday in an effort to gain an interview for a journalism traineeship. It was reasonable – my weakest areas are Arts and Sport – but the writing exercises brought a real challenge. Question 2: What’s your biggest mistake? Good lord – nasty question, that. I’m glad I didn’t have to tackle that one in a face-to-face setting. I would have fumbled for sure, possibly even muttering something about getting on the wrong bus or my regrets at not learning an instrument. As it was, ten minutes of concerted effort (which felt like oh, half a lifetime in the exam) conjured up the massive argument I had with one of my fellow editors towards the end of last year, an argument which had been brewing for months. After we finished savaging each other, we ended up at this bittersweet truce – the might have beens, the possibility of working together better had we tackled the issues we had with each other earlier on. It sounded a little twee, but I don’t know what else I could have nominated. That failed merger with ANZ? The line of chocolate rabbits in the late stages of myxomatosis which went down so well in the focus groups? My abortive glam-rock career? Difficult choices.
Anyway, the idea of work is freaking me out, as I may well have mentioned before. Especially journalism, the land of the workaholic drinkaholic. Would I still be able to have fun? (Apart from drinking to excess and talking shop). What about falling in love and mooning about? Is that permitted? See, my problem is that I haven’t as yet prepared a Work Personality – I generally try to make friends with my workmates and treat them as I would my friends, because I’m not great in terms of Professionalism. My dad goes to work as my dad, but once he puts on a white coat, he completely changes his personality – his voice doubles in volume, he becomes commanding and ultra-competent. Home, he’s relatively quiet, good-natured, friendly, his head a little in the clouds at all times. I’d like to devise some kind of work/home personality buffer, but I haven’t quite got there yet. While my personality does change at work, it’s not in the way I’d like. I’m meeker than normal, voice softer, more pliable. This shits me.
So, I’m not ready for work – but maybe I am. How can you know till you get there, I spose? I am a bit over uni, so maybe the solution is not more study, but dithering through travel. I figure if I travel now, I can scratch the itch good and proper so it doesn’t come back for a while. Current plan: 6 month working visa in Japan; teach English in Tokyo.
posted by Doug @ 10/04/2004 03:00:00 pm
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