Here we go again.
That's all I can think at the moment. I'm sure all of you are sick to death of me complaining about my job(s), so I'm not going to go into detail. I'll just say, here we go again.
My friends are all quitting. The way the company is treating its staff doesn't exactly inspire confidence or a sense of security. One managed to find a new role at BAA (lucky cow). One was made redundant through dodgy circumstances and left yesterday. One resigned today. Who's next? I wouldn't put money on it taking longer than a week for the next person to throw in the towel.
I can't decide if the string of crappy jobs I've had in the last seven or eight years is because I'm a bad judge of character, or if the universe is trying to tell me something. I know I'm not cut out for office work in the long term scheme of things. I'm creative, I love to cook and bake, I sew, I garden, I doodle, I craft. If I could make a living from doing one (or all) of those activities, I'd be in heaven. Maybe I should just go for it, take the bull by the horns and go all out for a career, rather than just making do with jobs.
The thing stopping me from doing just that is simple. I have a healthy dose of The Fear. What if I'm not as good at all that stuff as I think I am? What if nobody would buy my goods, what if I couldn't make ends meet on the proceeds, what if I look like a fool... what if, what if, what if. I know I'm lucky in that I have a great husband who would keep a roof over my head if it came down to it, but I can't afford (WE can't afford) for me to simply stop working, and I don't think I could stay sane without something to occupy me anyway.
Maybe it's time to just take the plunge. Maybe it would all work out for the best, and I'd be ecstatically happy working for myself. Maybe I'll get famous for designing/making killer handmade goods, and I'll get picked up by Graham & Green or Pedlars. Maybe. ; )
Don't be surprised if my next post says I've quit my job. At this point, I could only get happier.