There are no failures - just experiences and your reactions to them. ~Tom Krause
Life is hard. For everyone, I know. I mean, if you say life is easy, I can't even talk to you, because YOU ARE A LIAR.
Lord knows I've done enough complaining and venting on this blog.
Between fights with friends, work stress, and other added problems, my stomach has been the equivalent to what a 14-year-old's room looks like. A mess. With shit everywhere. Pun intended.
Moving here and taking a new job at a bigger TV station, in a bigger city was incredibly scary. And there have moments where I questioned the move. I had the world's largest comfort zone at home. World's largest.
I've been at this station/city for 5 months now and have met some new, colorful people. (Some bitchy ones, too.) I've learned a heck of a lot. But I was forced to learn by being thrown to the wolves. My first two weeks here, I was expected to do things that I never imagined I'd be doing.
Getting up to speed, and getting there, fast. No pressure. Except, there was A LOT of pressure.
Stomach = knots. Hard, hard, hard.
I never thought I'd make it. I almost gave up and walked away. Who needs work?
Oh yeah, I do. Effing bills.
My first 30-days here were the toughest, perhaps, of my life. After working in one newsroom for 6 years, and then suddenly having a whole new set of rules, policies, technical must do's.. aye. I was a crying baby at home after work a lot of days.
Thank God for Jimmy and how he kept reassuring me that I was bettering myself and that I would get it.
Looking back, I know the pain was necessary. The failures I made, I learned from. And It made me better, now months later. Maybe I'll be even better in a year or two.
I feel like I went through a rehab program, and have recovered.
Looking from the outside in, watching myself evolve.