My tongue is dragging on the ground, my heels and my heart are swollen and raw. My first week as a financial journalist at COVER Publications has come to an end, and my mind is blown.
I’ve recently learned to drive (look out for my new blog series, “Learning to drive at 25”, coming as soon as I get that bumper, fender and gearbox fixed), and it has taught me that new experiences wait around every corner. (Sometimes coppers with notepads wait around corners, but we’ll get to that later.)
This week was crazy exciting, scary, tiring, maddening, manic, and sobering. (There I go and break my 2014 writing resolution against overusing adjectives.) I learned that insurance is much more complex and riveting than I had initially thought, I learned that even though you say you’re a journalist, being multi-skilled will always help your cause. I have been pulled into a maelstrom of events that are definitely going to take me places I’ve never been before, and I’m happy to be taken with the tide.
It’s also been sobering, because so far in life I have been able to get my way by being charming and funny, and I haven’t taken myself too seriously. I’ve suddenly felt so insecure in what I’ve, until now, perceived as a grown-up world, and I’ve been paranoid that I won’t dress right or sound right or be good enough to do this job.
This week (and for a week in December) I have been mentored by the outgoing associate editor, and I’ve been thrown into the deep end (cliché alert!) by my colleagues as I stepped smack bang into crunch time trying to put this month’s issue to bed. Hence the title of this post. The things I have learned from the bottom of the lake (kyk nou hoe mooi maak ek daai cliché weer blink!) cannot be counted or compared to anything. The advice I have received, my millions of questions that were answered with the patience of Job (I don’t know anyone else who can be called patient, mmkay?), and the constant effort from everyone to make me feel at home in an unknown environment, have shifted my brain vibes and made me appreciate the kindness of humans again.
I’m no Hunter S. Thompson, but I am Annetjie van Wynegaard. And my boyfriend’s grandma says I’m gonna kick ass. 😀