The Modern Woman's Survival Guide

Is it just me or are you feeling like it’s a big push to the finish line right now too?

I’m treating my to do list with complete contempt and I wish my week was over before it’s even started. Not for what I have to do, but just because I’m ready for a holiday now. Like right now.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s been a great year, in fact, it’s been a fabulous year. One of the best yet. I’ve worked hard, made some courageous choices, stuck by my guns and it’s paid off. I’ve also met some truly beautiful people and welcomed fabulous new opportunities.

I started the year behind a high end cosmetics counter, where the discounts and free goods abated the inevitable boredom that can be working in retail. For reasons, I am not sure of now, I took on an extra job at a television network, which meant I worked 6 days a week and was taxed 50% on the second job for the privilage.

Sure, working for a television network sounds glamorous, but it was anything but. Besides the budget cuts meaning you were lucky to have your own rubbish bin, the out of control egos and time wasting politics, meant it was like working in a kindergarten, with the only difference being that nobody was pooing their pants.

I wasn’t allowed to say hello to the head of PR when she walked past reception every morning, unless she said hello to me?!

I was allowed to speak to our Sydney PR on Monday when I managed the radio phone calls, but not on a Friday. On a Friday, I had to ask my Manager whether I was allowed to ask our Melbourne PR the question I had for the Sydney PR, who would then ask the Melbourne PR to ask the Sydney PR, who would then tell the Melbourne PR, who would then tell me, that yes it was a good idea to come in earlier because I had noticed there was a radio phone call at 7 on the schedule she sent me.

If dealing with inane and unproductive politics wasn’t consuming all of my time, there was that thing that they paid me to do. My actual job. Answering the phones.

“Good Afternoon, Channel xx”

Caller: “You F*%$ING bitch! Why isn’t … on today? I’m going to have to take medication to get to sleep tonight now”. (x 400)

Caller: “I’m just ringing to let you know, that I will be watching … this morning, I just have to go to the shops to get some milk first”.

Caller: *cue heavy breathing and anxiety attack* “NEEEEWWWS DESK (yells). Is there going to be a storm today?” (at the slightest hint of wind or wet weather)

Caller: “Why isn’t the football being showed live tonight? I’m f*%*ing FURIOUS. I’m ringing the AFL” (x 4oo)

If this wasn’t bad enough, then there was my Manager, who dumped all her personal problems on me during my first week, continued to treat me like her therapist whilst I managed her unpredictability and erratic moods, and then repaid me, by turning out to be as fickle as Paris Hilton and her new best friend.

Now, you see, I’m 33, not 23. This means, that I’m not going to put up with bullshit, just because I’m trying to work my way to the top. After they violated my three strikes you’re out policy, I decided I could make it with or without a television network. I called a meeting with my Manager and professionally outlined the unacceptable working conditions and handed in my one week’s notice.

I must say I was rather impressed when I went to say goodbye on my last day of work, and she’d already left. Perhaps being professional and empowered was not something she knew how to handle? Sure seemed that way when the red rash was crawling up her neck, despite her trying to act nonplussed about my leaving. NEXT.

It was at this point, that I realised that it was time to make a monogamous commitment to my one true love – writing.

So, I did something that only the brave do when standing at the crossroads, contemplating the choice of continuing to run on the treadmill, or following the path of potential financial uncertainty for something more, the something that ultimately means the difference of dying well before your time, or actually living. I took a leap of faith.

I quit both my day jobs and set up my own writing business. Since then, I’ve never looked back. Sure, it was tough keeping the roof over my head at times, but then came the times when I had more business than I knew what to do with.

On top of this, I’m the Beauty Editor and Columnist for a fabulous magazine. A magazine that has a beautiful Editor at the helm, who not only inspires me on a professional level, but also personally, with the delightful way she looks at life and cherishes the beauty around her.

There is of course, last but definitely not least, my blog. A labour of love, second only to my book (a project I intend to give birth to in 2010).

So, yes, it’s time to stop and take a holiday. I want my top stress to be which brand of fake tan I am going to be using or how long it is before I need to reapply my SPF 30+. I want to lay on a beach in my bikini, with the sun’s rays penetrating through me and swim in the beach and let the water wash the stresses and the strains of the year away.

I will return with renewed energy and inspiration in my heart, so that I can breathe new life into my words and continue doing what I love. Write.

But I can’t. Not quite yet. But soon. But soon.