Our columnist is facing a life transition that has her quaking in her shiny white ankle boots.
It’s Monday and I am in a mood. It’s that time of the month, so my womb feels like a nuclear bomb has gone off inside it. I have a crater on my chin that shows up every time Auntie Flo is visiting and I swear to God, today it has its own pulse. I’m so bloated I look five months pregnant while my body confirms I am in fact most definitely not. And there is something else hanging over me that has me like an anti-christ. Next Monday I am starting a new job and the fear of the unknown has a hold of me now and it won’t let go.
I have been really unhappy in the job I’m in now for a long oul’ time and when I got the phone call that fateful Friday morning to say I had been offered a new position in a new company with a lovely shiny new salary I could not wipe the smile off my 10 out of 10 face. Yet as my leaving date gets closer and closer the fear is getting worse. Here are all the things I am shitting myself about.
Girlo No Mates
I’m gonna be the newbie, I don’t want to be the newbie. There is a strong chance these people are going to hate me until they really get to know me, and me strolling in hungover on a Monday morning with tales of projectile puking and penis mounting from the weekend
before are not going to make them fall in love with me any quicker. Maybe I should hold off on my stranger danger stories at least for a week or two…..
The Office Wardrobe
I’ve said it before but I’ll tell you again – I wear whatever I want to work. Whatever I feel Hunreal in and if I had a euro for every dirty look I got in the lifts every day I probably wouldn’t need this new job. But I plan on dressing appropriately in my new role. Or at least waiting until casual Friday to wear my fishnets in.
The Qualifications I Don’t Have
Reality is setting in that I am really under qualified for all the work I am about to start doing. I am graaaaaaaaaaand at blagging my way through an interview, through the odd Powerpoint display and using the phrase “Can I look into that and come back to you?” without ever actually going back to them, but what about everything else they are going to expect me to do? If I get my roots done this weekend they can blame it on me being a bit of a bimbo rather than the thick I actually am.
What If I’ve Worn The Face Off Someone Who Already Works There?
Dublin is a small place and this is a big company, so to me, those chances are pretty high! If I walk in to be greeted by someone who has seen my vagina I will die. I can handle that after a Christmas party but not on my first day!
There are a few other things I am freaking out about. I have the dread about leaving the girls I love and who I get to see every day. I completely take the piss in the job I have now because I have been here so long, so those 20 minute coffee breaks I go for three times a day to log into Twitter to moan about work are going to have to come to an end.
Although I’m completely shitting myself, I’m also kinda looking forward to not having a notion what is going on, and I’m defo excited that I’m finally earning a number that is higher than the amount of years I have been living on this planet. That’s the lifelong dream isn’t it? Wish me luck Huns! And stay stunnin’.
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