Careers are a funny old thing. When you are young, you are determined that when you are all grown up you will have an awesome career. When I was much younger I wanted to be a Red Coat at Butlins (No I have never seen a fat redcoat either but shush and just humour me for a moment). I really wanted to act, sing and perform for a living, and I honestly thought I would do it. I thought I would be good enough because I also got given the solos in plays and musicals, and I wasn’t help bad at picking up a dance routine.
As I progressed through senior school, I kind of got it into my head that it was a stupid idea. That I didn’t fit the bill for that kind of life, unlike the leggy blonde girls who were all around me. I put my little dream in a box and closed the door on it. And that’s where it stayed.
I was always told I was good at English at school, especially when I got to GCSE stage. I have always loved getting lost in a book, and would wright my own little tales and stories. I excelled at GCSE and A-Level and so when it came to university there was only one subject I would entertain the idea of studying. English! But that box of dreams I had locked away was rattling inside, and at the very last second I changed my degree to English with Drama. I am so glad that I did.
I started Uni and realised pretty quickly that an English degree was not at all as I was expecting. I need to learn about the origins of the language, learn a medieval language and read the most depressing books you could ever imagine. It wasn’t for me, but because I am a stubborn bugger I stuck with it. I would dream of my weekly release in my Drama seminars, falling in love with acting and singing all over again. I longed for those lessons and I think they were the only reason I didn’t jack the course in.
When I fell pregnant with Evie at the end of my second year I was torn as to whether I should return or not. To return to Uni in your final year with a newborn is hard; it’s even harder when you fall out of love with the subject you are meant to be studying. Again, I remained stubborn and battled through it. It was tough, really tough, but I did it, and as I have mentioned before I managed to get a 2:1, which is no mean bloody feat. I was, and still am, very proud of myself for the achievement, however I was then stuck at a crossroads. I had a child to support and the idea of any more learning, be it a PGCE or anything else, filled me with dread. I decided to put on my big girl boots and just get a full time job.
For a while I found myself falling from one career to the next. Never really loving anything I was doing, but just being content with having work and paying my bills. I was luckily enough to fall back into an education based job, where I am now, and it sparked a new fire within me. But I am feeling it ebb away recently and I am feeling rather downtrodden and browbeaten.
I feel as though my days are endless and repetitive. Like I am stuck in an endless loop that I cannot see disappearing any time soon. I adore the basis of my job, and I enjoy working with most of the people that I do. But I have grown tired of the bad parts that are now starting to eat away at the good.
If anyone knows of a job that requires a tubby red coat based in the Midlands, give me a shout!
Until next time …