I find it very difficult to do so, even when it's really obvious to those all around me that things just aren't working out. I hate giving up. I like to finish things. I want to be the person that can be depended upon in a crisis, the person who copes well, smiles and has time for everyone.
Yesterday, it became very clear to me that actually, I had some hard choices to make. It was my degree, or my job. My degree represents my future as a Creative/Writer, brokedom, more debt than several third world countries put together. Versus my job: represents money, self-esteem, professionalism. I love the people I work with, even the spikey ones. They are incredibly supportive and compassionate, i'm often spluttering coffee everywhere with their jokes and wry observations. Then, there are the callers who are Byronic: mad, bad and dangerous to know. I think if I wasn't doing my degree, the job would be fine, in fact, more than fine.
My underwear is firmly hidden by my tights. I am …