“Yes. Sure I can do that. Stat”

“What”

“Nothing. Just a joke. I’ll have it done by lunchtime”

“Ok. You do remember how to book a meeting? We need CD, ID and a representative from the IP department. While you’re at it prepare a brief for everyone”

“Got it”

Scramble for the notebook. Furiously begin to fill the page with scribbles. Make a list. Do some research. Draw a flower. OK. I’m set. Now, where is that meeting booker button?

Work. It always seems one step ahead of you and you’re just that one grating pen click behind it. Given a grown up title and a cool desk, email tag and a phone. This is real. I have made it.

Finally those long nights staring bleary eyed at a computer screen, waking up with a space bar printed on your cheek and pulling your body along the university pathways, lurching towards your lecturer blood shot, pasty and tee totaling with the essay that you are assured will get you a good job, all seems worth it.
Well, it got me to my first week.

Now, I remember the first seven days. Filled with high fives and coffee room laughter – the new kid everyone wanted to know. Blissfully considering the multitude of ways my presence will impact the direction of the company.
Ah yes, I was the talk of the town.

Not so.

Actually I fumbled my way wide eyed through that first day, too scared to get up for a break – lest I be seen as hogging the coffee machine and bludging on the job. Then a meltdown on the train home, sweating into my shoes, quick call to the best friend and assuring all went well. Sleepless nights, thinking too hard about swallowing during meetings, laughing too hard at people’s jokes, 60 minute outfit coordination in the morning and then the funniest thing happened: the second week began. And in that second week an even more interesting thing happened.

I had a good idea.

Sitting in a meeting, talking about ways we can improve our program and I said it. The idea that caused a brief smile and eyebrow raise from my manager.

“Well get to it then. Make it happen.”

Yes! A win. It made my blood run gold.

It’s now been the end of the ninth month. Nine months of highs riding good ideas, and nine months of terror causing more mistakes than I care to admit.

So when does that feeling end? The one that suggests any moment someone’s going to tap you on the shoulder, cordially explain that you have been discovered, yes we know that you have no idea what you’re doing!
This is an offense. You come across as all relaxed and confident. But no! We know what you really are! And then proceed to escort you off the premises.

Damn.

I get the feeling that that feeling doesn’t end. Adults are just kids in bigger pants. And I now, am just that kid, in bigger shoes. The trick is really to harness your virgin mind and realize that you are actually in a seat of great power.

We aren’t jaded. (Re read that please)

Everyone is waiting for that next visionary word. And you don’t necessarily need a degree or a brilliant background to speak that language. You do, however, need to want it. And in between those marvelous times of brilliance comes nothing other than subtle monotony. The trick is to not let it bury you.

Guess I’ll let you know how that goes

Sara-Rose

Sarah-Rose is one of Youth Content Producers. If you would like to see your blog appear here visit our Be Involved page to find out how.

More info, videos etc

Check out our finding and starting work page for more info for videos, factsheets and real stories

Thank you to Student Edge for supporting the development of this blog through the provision of a rather fantastic Goodie Bag for Sarah-Rose

Image of note book by KatLevPhoto via Flickr under Creative Commons License.

Tags: work