Aching Brain

Life has changed rather rapidly in the last week for me, so I thought I would have a chat about it with the readers (all five of you) of this fine website.

I started a new job on Monday. 9.30-5.30, in Greenwich, small company, that hires out music and musicians for weddings and other assorted random events. It’s kind of tedious at times, but it’s also fun at times. There are so many things to learn and I’m having trouble remembering where everything is filed, where everything is stored on the computers and all the questions you have to ask people when they ring up. I am sure I’ll get my head round this at some point. But it is terrifying, I finally have responsabilities, I’m bound to make a whole raft load of mistakes, but ultimately I’m going to have to take the blame for all of them. Zoiks!

Then Wednesday comes, frantic text-messaging ensues amongst my group of college friends - they decide to post our exam results early! So, at 5.30 I step onto the bus back to New Cross, and sit nervously in Deptford traffic, envisaging scenes of panic around the boards, and a sense of dread wells up as I imagine not being able to find my number.

There was no one by the boards when I arrived and, despite the lack of crowding, it did take me at least five minutes to find the list of music graduates. Scanning down the list, I eventually found my number in a very pleasing position, and then checked it against my student card at least ten times before it finally sinking in. I had graduated.

Friday brought another change. I left my previous job, a moderately well-paid evening and weekends type thing in one of this cities’ great musical venues. If you made a mistake, you could blame a thousand other people, anyone but yourself. A kind of comfortable, but at times an intenslty uninteresting and unchanging type of comfortable. The evening went slowly and I was due to finish after the interval (and of course head straight to the pub for last night drinking). I asked my manager if it would be possible, since I was leaving, to sneak in at the back and just listen one last time. Better than that, she told me to leave ten minutes before the interval and then grab a ticket and sit in a prime spot in the building. I was amazed. But truly thankful. So I sat and watched, not moving for an hour and a half, entranced, slightly sad, absorbing every last drop.

I never thought I would miss the place, and I don’t think I will. The job essentially entailed being abused by members of the public, mixed in with the occassional friendlier faces. I won’t miss that. But seeing fantastic productions and hearing fanstatic music, as a regular part of your job is something that I am loathed to leave. People too I suppose, I have made some good friends there, and they’ll be missed. I know there will be some of them that I’ll still see from time to time, which will be good.

A week for moving on. I feel like I’ve left school again, or something, faces you’ll never see again dissapear, the bleak smell of most of the classrooms will never be there, and the safeness and security is all gone. Instead, I’ve just left university and started life - something which needn’t be frightening and is simply exciting.

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