How Changing Jobs Finally Allowed Me to Enjoy My Christmas | #ThisGirlEats

Shout out to all the frazzled retail workers: I feel ya. This time of year is awful for you guys – until very recently, I was one of you guys! After my time as an Xmas sales assistant, three distinct experiences spring to mind…

1. The queues. Oh dear God, the queues…

2. The questions. Just so. Many. Questions.

3. The very rude, inexplicably angry customers. “Why don’t you have this in stock?” “I’m actually in a rush, I don’t have time for any of your offers.” “5p for a bag?! Outrageous!” “Why can’t I return this without a receipt? I know my rights, you know!”

It’s shit. You get zero time to yourself. You’re expected to work crazy hours that give the bigwig CEOs – who sit in their comfy offices and work nice, normal hours – cartoonish dollar signs in their eyes. You’re there at the crack of dawn for the early shoppers. You’re there until late at night for the after-work buyers. You’re there on Christmas Eve for the last minute-ers. You’re there on Boxing Day for the sales fanatics. You’re literally always at work.

There’s no build-up for you. No lovely festive shopping trips, no pre-Christmas get-togethers, no cosying up on the sofa for a day of mulled wine and Christmas films. Grabbing a spare few hours between shifts to purchase, wrap and deliver presents is a military mission. You get one day, ONE DAY, to celebrate – Christmas Day. My ‘one day’ had to be split between mine and my boyfriend’s family, so I ended up with half a day to see my ‘rents, my grandparents, my extended family (who I bloody love)… everyone!

It makes getting into the festive spirit really, really hard.

This year I left retail at the very last moment – I was Indiana Jones, rolling under the store shutter and snatching up my trusty hat just in the nick of time. I switched to my first office-based role in December and, thanks to the time of year, I’ve instantly felt the benefits.

The Christmas party, for one. When you’re a retail worker in a shopping centre or central city location, it’s impossible to arrange the perfect time for a Christmas bash – someone, somewhere, is always working and, inevitably, we’re told the party will just have to wait until the New Year… Again. But the office Christmas party – much like the recent Jennifer Anniston flick – went all-out and, for the first time, work felt Christmassy to me.

The computers are decorated with tinsel. Treats sit waiting for you on the desk – a secret santa gift, a thank you from your manager. Everyone wants to go for pre-Christmas drinks after work because, why not, it’s only 5pm. Not to mention actually knowing in advance which festive days you can spend with your loved ones – including Boxing Day and the glorious feeling of not facing the crazy ‘o’ clock shoppers first thing in the morning!

I don’t at all envy those who are stuck in yet another year of Christmas retail. I sympathise – no, I empathise – with you. Who knows, I may well end up back there again one day, the office might not be the place for me after all. Only time will tell. But for now, I know for sure that I’m so, so glad I left my retail job when I did because I finally feel like I can enjoy Christmas, just like everyone else.

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Fuck Shame: How This Blog Snubbed My Career-Shaming Habit (Yes, That’s a Thing) | #ThisGirlEats

Like a decent cuppa, #ThisGirlEats has been brewing for a long time. As it became less an idea and more a reality, my passion exploded and it was suddenly super important to me. It was like a new lease of life (is a mid-20s crisis a thing? It really should be) and I wanted to make it work.

Image: Pintrest.com

If you’re sitting at home, perhaps feeling defeated, perhaps finding comfort in a bag of Kettle chips and a bottle of wine (no judgement here), wondering how a foodie blog that probably only my family and some very nice friends will ever read lifted me out of a similar funk, let me tell you…

I don’t like my job – I know; newsflash, I’m not the only one, bla bla bla. I mean, it’s not toooooo bad (‘cept rude customers, late nights and the absolute nightmare of Christmas retail, obviously), it’s just not my passion. And when you slog away day in, day out, at something you don’t feel any passion towards, it can get kinda depressing.

I’m SO guilty of letting my day job knock me back – I can’t count how many times I’ve come home feeling utterly rubbish. Still working at what I imagined to be a temporary stop-gap (HA HA HA) and not exactly making waves with my degree – or the £30,000 of debt I spent getting it! – led to endless hours punishing myself. I’d often turn a completely fine day into a living hell because I’d make myself feel so down about it.

But then I came up with this blog. Something to focus on, to aim for, to work on. Something exciting, motivating. It was a new adventure, the start of something. Once I realised that, everything else, including changing my negative mindset, just seemed to fall into place.

What was I criticising myself for? For being fortunate enough to have a job? For earning money, which allows me to have my own creative space, a decent laptop, and food to cook and experiment with? Is that really so awful? Isn’t that actually something to be proud of? Everyone who is successful, who I admire, has been in my shoes at some point. I’m a work in progress.

I thought having an “ordinary” retail job instead of being an award-winning journalist, music mogul or internet sensation of the blog-o-sphere made me unambitious, uncreative, underachieving. But did I look at my colleagues, doing the exact same job as me, that way? No. I saw them as funny, independent, interesting, creative, etc.. So why did I find it so hard to look at myself the same way?

We need to stop thinking that if we aren’t creating, organising, housekeeping, social media-ing, exercising, seeing friends and finding time to chill, all in one day, that it’s not a successful day. Productivity doesn’t have a time limit. The clock doesn’t refresh and start all over again after 24 hours. There’s no shame in working hard for bloody ages to get what you want. Fuck shame – take shame, disappointment and frustration into your own hands and mould it into inspiration, motivation, work ethic, passion, hunger.

Starting this blog gave me a bigger picture. It made me see my day job as a stepping stone rather than an obstacle. We are all a work in progress, and that’s okay.