1 Month Anniversary

Well, I celebrated one month at my new job this week! When I say 'celebrated', I mean I turned up to work as though it was a normal day, got on with my tasks and realised with a strange jolt to my insides that it was exactly 1 month to the day since I had started. And what did I do? Send fevered WhatsApp messages to my mates highlighting this fact and ordering afterwork cocktails to toast to the occasion? No, primarily because we do that anyways, regardless of having something to celebrate (who really needs an excuse to get turnt anyways?) and secondly, because I'm a neurotic bag of nerves.

As I trawled the Interwebs and books for titbits of juicy historical nuggets, my mind began to tick over: was I doing well in my role? Am I making enough of an effort? How noticeable are miso soup stains on a white shirt? How many trips to the loo is too much? Oh God, I haven't done a tea round today - am I the Queen of the Selfish Tea? And so on and so forth.

In an industry as large and as oversaturated as TV and media, getting in is purported to be notoriously difficult; more difficult than eating half a bag of share-sized Maltesers and leaving the rest for the next day (I've tried and failed on numerous occasions). But on 'getting in' I've quickly learned that putting yourself out there, getting the best gigs and therefore progressing is akin to threading your own eyebrows: there are some talented gods that can do it, you wish you could do it and gosh darn it, with some practice you just might be able to one day. You're only going to get ahead by being your own orchestra - I'm talking tooting your own horn, blowing your own trumpet and clashing the hell out of your own cymbals. This is something, I am terrible at doing. What I like to think is bashful modestly is actually a self-crippling and annoying tendency to subsist between self-depreciation and shyness. Excellent. Apparently, women are most likely to feel this way - we like to wait for a pat on the back and never like to boast - lest we be seen as bossy. 

So, in that vein, I decided to draw up the Get The Hell Out of Your Fucking Feelings and Put Yourself Out There or You'll Not Get Very Bloody Far At All Initiative - which for my sins can be shortened, but hey, I like to be a loquacious as possible. Here goes:

1. When you've completed a task, let your colleagues know. This may sound ridiculously obvious to some, but just this week, a Researcher I work under was looking over some work I'd done, and commented on how amazing it all was. She couldn't believe I'd done it, even though she'd asked me to; I just assumed she knew that's what I was up to. Apparently not. So unless you want your colleagues to think you're a snotty-nosed freeloader taking up valuable oxygen, I suggest you pipe up hella quick with all that amazing shit you're doing.
2. When new people come along, be it a new boss, contributor, animal handler, introduce yourself! No Jacquie, don't shuffle around like the spectre of Twenteen Angst in the background, step forward and say 'Hi'.
3. Yeah and when you do say 'hi', don't gabble embarrassingly: 'I'm just the intern - actually I'm a bit of a fraud, I have no idea why I'm here!' Yes, I've actually said this. Repeatedly. I like to follow this statement with nervous, angsty laughter whilst the person sentenced with the pleasure of my company, looks on, completely nonplussed. 
4. Own it. Own yourself. Be Your Brand. Yes, this does sound like sickly-sweet crap usually spoken by people with impossibly glossy hair and LA bright-white teeth, but it's true. Stop doubting yourself, what you believe in and questioning why you stick out/think differently. It's okay. Adapt to your surroundings by all means (no one like the obnoxious prat who barks about how alternative and anti-establishment they are) but accept what makes you different - who knows, maybe you'll be able to use it to your advantage one day?

Mediate on this, everyday.