Despite the cold feet, I was resolute. The decision had been made. I definitely couldn't stay here anyway. To say I wasn't enjoying work was more than an understatement. I felt undervalued, frustrated, it all seemed so pointless. I never thought I'd be the kind of person whose self esteem was so tied in with my job. It's seems so obvious really. Feel shit about what you do for most of the day and you're more than likely to feel shit about yourself.
Then one morning at work my phone rang, the call was from a lecturer on the NCTJ journalism diploma. She had read my blog, this blog, and said I was just the kind of person they were looking for. I couldn't believe it, I thought I'd missed the boat. I wanted to do the course since I left university. The problem was, I was perpetually skint until I got my most recent job and was able to start saving a little bit of money each month: the Berlin fund. Of course I accepted in a fucking heartbeat.
Berlin was always a gamble. It was also my last resort. Whatever I said out loud or on here, I knew I was running away. I've decided to stay, decided to fight. I'm not resigning myself to misery and selling my soul, sanity and self worth with it.
I have no idea what 2014 will bring but I know it's going to be good. And Berlin? Berlin will have to wait xx