Bad Days Lead to Good Decisions

My future plans have taken an unexpected turn. Not entirely unexpected, since it was me who decided what turn to take. But it is a turn I never would have anticipated making. It was prompted by my re-entry to the workforce this week. Whilst writing my blog post about being cursed, a temp agency where I’d interviewed the week before called to offer me a two-week assignment. I was tremendously delighted to finally cut down my excessive amount of free time—and, more importantly, to be paid! But the thrill very quickly wore off.

It was ground down by the commute, which is over an hour long and involves three forms of transportation. A walk, bus ride, walk, train ride and walk later, I arrived at Coupon Place. They set me to work filing as soon as I walked in. I was introduced to no-one except the other receptionists, which, in my experience as a temp, is unusual. I was at least given an introduction to my co-workers on each of my previous assignments.

This lack of introduction was accompanied by a strange lack of instruction. I returned from lunch expecting to continue the leisurely filing I’d been doing all morning. Instead, L said, “Come sit over here,” and indicated one of the seats at reception. Suddenly, after five minutes of training, I was going to start answering phones and doing data entry. This was a bit bewildering, since I had no idea who anyone in the company was or what they did. Actually, it was tremendously bewildering. I also had no answers with which to combat the queries I was receiving about the company’s product.

My head was reeling when I left the office. What happened to the days where I was ridiculously thoroughly trained in how to apply a label? I really didn’t want to go back the next day. But of course I did. And I learned that I was stressed on Monday because everyone else was, too. There are usually three administrators at Coupon Place. I’m covering one of the spots until they can find a replacement for a woman who recently found a different job. And the lead administrator learnt that morning that she had blood clots in her leg and would unexpectedly be gone for the rest of the week.

This left one administrator who actually knew what she was doing. And it wasn’t me. L had to learn all the things that the lead administrator would normally do, plus teach me my job. I have sympathy, but I think the stress got to her. She was distinctly rude, condescending and unfriendly by the end of the week. Everything she explained to me was accompanied by a sneer. My attempts at conversation were dismissed, until she turned around and started discussing the subject I’d just tried to open with someone else who doesn’t even sit at reception. It was as if she wanted to emphasise the fact that she was ignoring me.

So instead of feeling more integrated into Australian life, I felt more isolated. But it turned out to be a surprisingly good thing. I was wretchedly miserable on Monday night. I felt purposeless. I came here with only a very vague idea as to why. But it definitely wasn’t to do more temp work. Especially with a miserable co-worker. I’ve been temping for nearly a year. I don’t like it. At least at home I had Australia as my end goal. But that goal didn’t have as distinct an end as I’d thought. So I’m doing more temp work here, with no end in sight.

But if I don’t want to be doing this, what DO I want to be doing? I’ve been casually pondering this for a while now. On Monday I arrived at the answer surprisingly suddenly. I thought about how ridiculously excited I’d been about the possibility of working at the Tate Modern museum when I was trying to avoid going home by finding a job in England. I thought about how I’m hoping to volunteer at an art gallery here. And it became clear. I want to be a curator at a gallery. To do that, I need a degree in art history and/or museum studies.

So I’m going to grad school.

And I’m probably going home early. It’s not definite. I’ve not booked the plane ticket yet. But at this moment, it seems inevitable that I’ll run out of money. My savings have gone ridiculously fast, and I’m not sure how steady my temp work will be. But if that happens, I won’t be crushed. I don’t have the vehement desire to stay here that I experienced in London and Dublin. Or, perhaps more accurately, I don’t have an absolutely panicky adverse reaction to the idea of going home. It actually makes me pretty happy.

None of this is what I anticipated. Going back to school had never entered my mind. But now that it has, it seems completely right. I never would have considered ending a period as an expat early. But I want to get going on this new plan of action as soon as I can. I’m not going to be closed to any possibilities Sydney might yet offer. If something happens to make me want to linger here a little longer, then I’ll go with it. But I finally have a direction that I want to take going forward. If I wind up not being able to finance this interlude in Australia, it’s OK. It was being here that helped me to figure out what I’ll do whenever it is that I go home. That alone was worth the trip.