Rejection. Whatever the cause, it sits by your bedside waiting for eyes to open, full of a new day's sparkle. And then...blam...oh yeah, here I am ready to remind you that you is a failure, baby.
There I am putting my best foot forward and nope. nope. nope. Doors closing and apologies spilled over into my week like a melancholy waterfall.
So, of course, I went straight into 'sorry for me' mode. Gah, how rubbish can one person be. Here goes... I'd been killing it on the writing submission front by hitting two or three stories a week and of course there was the interview. But how very quickly my hopeful heart sank when my stories and poems didn't make the grade and the job simply passed me by. Everything I offered was getting to the final hurdle only to be sprawled across the finish line watching the backs of winners.
My inspiration died and dried up all my writing. And it finally seemed like my teaching life was done for good this time.
Then off the back of one of those 'feedback' calls where you get to hear all of your faults, even though you'd realised them the minute you were driving home from the interview, things started to look a little more blue sky-ish.
Fast-forward and not only am I writing again, the sun's out and I am an employed teacher again. Go me, right?
Sometimes those doors need to close in order for you to find an alternative entrance. Challenges lie ahead but my head's up for the first time in a while, so bring it, bring it, bring it.
It's going to be strange going back to the working grind after so long at home. I've had the privilege of structuring my own days, exploring my own dreams and spending more time with the girls and whilst that's not going to disappear completely, I am going to be a bit weirded out having those Sunday night blues again. Or then again, maybe I won't.
One thing I won't miss is the stink attitude from some people who cut me the side-eye when asking 'are you working yet?' as though I'm a fully paid up member of The Farage Fan Club. Unlike the lovely, lovely people who have asked about the progress of my writing - thank you to those people, I am still putting pen to paper and the dream lives on.
I am doing the running man in my garden right now. On my own. In front of my cats. They don't care.