It’s Sunday evening and I’m frightened. Tomorrow I go to start a 4-week contract at one of the world’s most prestigious agencies.
It’s the most incredible opportunity and, to tell the truth, I’m terrified.
What if I screw it up?
What if I can’t handle the pressure?
What if it’s just too much?
Even if it is all those things, it’s just 4 weeks. I just need to give it my all and my everything for a month and then I’ll have to incredible names on the CV.
And if it all goes well, there will be the option to perhaps further extend the contract or to even look towards a permanent position.
I don’t know why I’m so frightened, I should be filled with excitement about the opportunity. Perhaps it’s because I can’t quite picture it in my head; I just can’t see myself at one of the best agencies in London — the name of it is so huge that even people outside the industry have heard of them. One of the first books I ever read was written by the founder.
Charlie was incredible when I told him how nervous I was.
“You’re not working for them, you’re working with them,” he told me as we FaceTimed earlier. “You’re an independent entity.”
He’s so wonderful, I really don’t know how I managed to find someone so wonderful. He may be in California but he takes every opportunity to let me know how close he is to me.
I guess the other part of my nervousness is that this opportunity replaces any chance of immediately seeing him. I miss him so much; Chris called me “smitten” as we spoke on Saturday.
As I confessed to him, when I think of Charlie, I don’t think of the thrilling orgasms that he gave me; I think of the way that he held me. I think of his beautiful blue eyes looking into mine. Or how beautiful he looked as he lay on my bed bare-chested.
He is truly one of the best men I’ve ever known.
Any chance that he gets he wants to help and support me. One day, I really hope that we can be together. Life is just worth so much more when he is around. I feel stronger and more able than I ever have before when I know that he is waiting there for me.
For him, would I consider moving to California? If it continued to be as wonderful as it is now, eventually, yes — I’d consider it. Part of me would even welcome it. I thought I was a lifer for London but, if the city has taught me anything, it’s that there are things worth living for beyond work and success. Those things are great as they happen, but they’re only fleeting. You need to have something more than them to come back to; to live for.
Unanswered emails don’t matter and they won’t keep you warm at night.
Big contracts may feel thrilling, but they won’t hold your hand as you walk along the Southbank.
Managerial praise isn’t going to pick you up when you fall down.
Part of me dreads going in tomorrow — it could be the start of an incredible new journey, but it could also be the start of a lot of pain. The political environment of the office, the hours and hours of monotonous work for no recognition and even less personal satisfaction.
Or maybe it will just be a job — unemotional, underwhelming and just something I can be interested in for a few hours.
Being too emotional is, I think, at the heart of most of my problems.
Maybe this will be a cure? Let’s see.