It has always been my dream job, and I’d all but given up on the prospect of actually being able to work in the travel industry. I’d thought my ship had all but sailed, so actually getting a gig with Student Flights is something I really don’t want to mess up.
I love my team, I think I love the industry and my boss is a stand up G.C. – I don’t want to let anyone down, least of all myself and I’ve inadvertently piled the pressure on.
This weekend finished with a bonus day off, a long weekend for the Queen’s Birthday, the extra day off has been exactly what I’ve needed so take a deep breath, reset and ready myself for the next week, our final assessment and hopefully, my graduation.
I started the week lulled in to a false sense of security, domestic flights aren’t that hard to book, as it turns out and nothing we were doing seemed too far removed from my capabilities.
Then I was treated to my first Buzz Night, and despite an early night for me, I still managed to put away a good few bottles of wine (paid for by Student Flights, it’s hard job) and have some deep and meaningfuls with anyone who’d listen.
Zac was an absolute babe, and came to pick me up from Richmond – and gave Tim a lift home: more reason, if I ever I needed it, why I love him – and despite my inane and persistent ramblings about Brexit and the UK election I was feeling good, optimistic even.
Life is fucking spiffing at the moment, we’re both in a good place and things only seem to be on their way up from here.
Wednesday morning came round a little too quick, the rose tint of the night before beginning to wear and I headed off in to the city needing a few more hours sleep with a squashed up slice of badly buttered bread in one hand and my head in the other. I gently willed my way to training without getting too dizzy, questioning whether or not I was truly cut out for ‘flightie life’.
I spent the week sitting on a wave of stress, so it was nice to spend the weekend doing absolutely nothing. Well…the washing is done, meals are prepped, the bedroom is tidy
as it’ll ever be and we even started a new season of The Flash.
That kind of nothing.
We spent Saturday house shopping, finding a few potential properties we’d be more than happy to call home, Sunday was spent bowling and hanging out with Beau and Monday was spent catching up on life admin, planning bills and expenses for the month and coming up with a rough meal plan for the week.
This sickening domestic bliss is all I’ve ever wanted, really and I can genuinely say I’m just as happy curled up in trackies, snuggling up to Zac while he plays his basketball game on his PS4 and I try create a shopping list as I am when we’re all dressed up on date night.
Despite the pressure I’ve put on myself to succeed in my new career, I know I’ve always got Zac to keep me grounded, feed me mozzarella sticks and make sure I’m still looking after me.
Zac has been an absolute rock for me this week.
Our learning has really been ramped up a gear, and it’s gone from seemingly wishy washy bullshit to nuclear science in a matter of clicks.
I’m pining for a few weeks ago, when the hardest thing I had to learn was a new acronym to help me talk to people, nodding three times and engaging the forward lean as we mocked how obvious these conversation ‘tactics’ were.
There’s a reason you spend two weeks re-learning how to talk to people, because the computers are fucking hard and when you’ve got a myriad of systems to try and remember, all thoughts of meaningful conversation and appropriate touching go out of the window.
On Tuesday I came home to some flowers and some mint chocolate (extra special, not because it was Lindt, but because Zac hates mint chocolate, so it meant it was all for me), a preemptive move from Zac who’d already sensed my anxiety was rearing it’s ugly head.
On Wednesday I wasn’t so much suffering from Buzz Night, as a complete mental overload and a severe lack of adequate sleep. I took a tactical nap under the desk on my lunch break, tried to mediate to quiet my racing mind and realised that this was the first time in years that I’d been challenged mentally.
Feeling no less refreshed, I contented myself with making notes all afternoon, sitting on rising anxiety, only really feeling like I took a proper breath when I stepped out and took a gulp of the cool winter air at the end of the day.
On Thursday I broke. I’d been feeling too slow, too stupid, too computer illiterate, stupidly comparing myself to my faster colleagues all day. I diligently made my notes, and clicked when prompted, but despite being able to follow a process I didn’t know why. Then Pidge was explaining fare ladders and stopovers and I looked up from my notebook to see maths on the board and couldn’t quite stop the tears.
Zac rained down support, tough love and affection, but I left at the end of the day questioning whether or not I’d be back tomorrow. I did go back; but Friday was another blur of information, new systems and manic clicking, pushing tab, ctrl c and ctrl v and I found myself in the toilets doing breathing exercises and fighting down a full anxiety attack.
Time away from Head Office, time to quietly go over my notes, and time to focus on some fun things with Zac has me ready for tomorrow.
As ready as I’ll ever be.