In the past week I have realised that pretending to be a grown up is a strange thing. It's a weird mix of being a professional, a geek, and still being an immature 16 year old at heart all rolled into one.
And I've realised that it's full of difficult decisions. This is going on from my last post- I do always say yes to things, but for once, I said no to something which COULD have been something rather marvellous. It took a hell of a lot for me to say no. I was meddled with guilt that I was saying no, and constantly thinking that turning it down would be the worst thing since wearing spots and stripes together in the same outfit. (Epic fashion fail, FYI.)
But actually it was a no brainer and I think I was making a mountain out of a rather small mole hill. I had a job offer doing a not so dissimilar role to the one I do now for a lovely organisation, but it was in Peterborough.. cue the frantic emails to my parents asking their advice. In short I said why thank you for the lovely offer, but no thanks. And it wasn't too difficult to do. The words amazing achievement for me come to mind.
In the end it all comes down to self preservation doesn't it?
Going on from this, I know I always make things out to be worse than they are- somebody I know that I saw recently will agree wholeheartedly with this as I know this element of my character really pissed them off.. but I like to think of it as being incredibly prepared for all scenarios. To be fair, the words OMG fall out of my mouth far too often, most likely followed by a AS IF?! Or: WHAT THE FUCK I AM GOING TO DO?! When really all the situation calls for is a calm hand. I think us girls are more than guilty of gossiping and over worrying about things- I know I am prime suspect number one, as I'm sure are many of my lovely friends, which means that more than likely, you are too. A prime example of my worrying is my recent driving theory test- I was incredibly concerned that failing would be, like, the worst. thing. ever. I had a panic call to my friend (the lovely Jenni) the day before who effectively told me to chill the fuck out and if I failed it wouldn't be the end of the world. The fact I read an article the night before about a chap who'd failed it an impressive and absolutely hilarious 90 times probably didn't help matters...
As it happened, I passed the chuffing theory test, and lo and behold the we are all still here as the world did not end. Phew.
I doubt I will ever learn my lesson about worrying, and I'll still be known as the one who worries too much.
My family nicknamed me Captain Sensible for good reason it seems. I'll work on that one though.