A few months ago I approached an old lecturer of mine who I had spotted on LinkedIn. She now works at London Metropolitan. I have always fancied the idea of eventually going back to Uni; to study or to teach. Probably when I've tired of the fashion retail conveyer belt.
I kind of envisaged a room full of eager 22 year old me's, but instead it was a roudy bunch of undergraduates, probably hungover from last nights antics and most of them tapping away on iPads. Probably a closer, more realistic, similarity to what my old Uni lectures used to be like (without the Apple technology), much to the opposition of my memory and imagination.
I was a little nervous at first, a little stumbly, but I soon felt comfortable and was chit chatting away. Once I start talking there is no stopping. I reached the end of my pre-prepared slides and felt a little sad. I wanted to stay a bit longer and to talk a bit more. Luckily there were questions...
I came out after an hour feeling proud. Proud of myself for setting that up in the first place and proud of myself for having the balls to do it. I had that interview feeling, you know when you think 'yea, I did my best there'. I wasn't all that bothered about how they thought it went but more focused on the feeling of accomplishment. I need to have this feeling more. I need to feel proud and like I'm achieving stuff. Maybe that's the key to all this.
Next on my conquering agenda is to decorate my flat. I am on my way to purchase the Laura Ashley paint (naturally) right this min.
