Running away to Mexico might just have to wait…

While Monday, or the affectionately titled ‘Moan-day’, passed slower than a sloth’s morning routine, Tuesday has rocketed out the blocks with a horde of replies flooding back into my dusty inbox. News from hundreds of submissions was finally returning home after a long winter. If Monday was the tortoise, then Tuesday is the hare. A concord of a day to the blow the negative, clogging cobwebs of yesterday completely out of my mind and reinvigorate my journey for the holy grail of employment.

And to think the day didn’t actually get off to a great start. DAS Accelerate responded to my application with a solid ‘no’ and I quickly saw the whole week slipping out of my fingers. My essay remarking the changes that Next needed to imply to recover from their lull and become an integral member of Britain’s high street fell on deaf ears. While I had never been to positive about my chances with the company, rejection is rejection and it’s not what you want to wake up to. Was today really just going to be a repeat of yesterday’s isolated, muted day. I’m not sure how much squirty cream the human stomach can hold but my hand was already grasping for the fridge handle…

Just when things were threatening to dive down into the deep end, there was a ray of light firing through the murky water. A measly 4 minutes after skimming through my ever so impersonal feedback from DAS my inbox was bleeping again, my phone was vibrating, and sitting quite pleasantly above the denial was an email from Arena Media. An affiliate company for Havas Media UK, the company creates media campaigns for corporations including Westfield, Eurostar and ESPN with the simple goal of increasing brand exposure. Pessimistically, sensing more rejection was just around the corner, it took a short time to open the email. Could my heart take another hit? Was there any point getting dressed today? Should I just run off to Mexico already? The questions swarmed my head as I nervously clicked on the message, and through my fingers peered at the opening line. The response wasn’t exactly what I was expecting.

An interview for an Account Executive position. Headway. A job suitable for a plucky, young graduate with an unquenchable desire to absorb as much knowledge as possible. I’m already looking forward to meeting the company. A huge reassurance on receiving this interview, that I found it via my LinkedIn page, is that I’m managing to compete with a lot of people. When I stumbled across the role there had already been 230 applicants, so I thought I would speculatively apply and see how I got on. I’ve watched people from the company swirl around my page like vultures over the past week and it’s comforting to know they must have liked what they saw on my page. It’s highly encouraging to be progressing in an outrageously competitive sector and even though it’s just an interview, it feels bloody good.

The news fired my day forward on an upward projection. I actually put some trousers on, rather than my usual attire of shorts and exposed torso, and attacked my shaggy beard. A bacon and egg sandwich later and I was back in the game. With the pulsating battle between Little Mix and One Direction raging war on 4 Music I sat back down to my applications and strained my brain for the best ‘Long Idea’ I’ve seen in the past year. My fingers had hardly breezed when my phone frantically burst into life once more. Could it be another response, or was it my Mum just checking I was awake? In all honesty it was both. I quickly assured Mum that I’d been awake for a spritely 3 hours before moving back to my inbox.

Now it’s very rare that anyone but Ticketmaster contacts me on a sluggish Tuesday afternoon, never mind three companies getting in touch. So while I prepared to enthusiastically look through the details of Boyzone’s upcoming ‘Forest’ tour, I was surprised to find yet another response. SMG, the company I so painstakingly searched the definition of a brand for, had, within a week, got back to me. They hadn’t just got back to me though. On the 10^th of February I shall be attending their assessment center with a dramatically increased chance of finding full time employment. Could SMG be the saviour? Perhaps the three-letter acronym stood for ‘Saving Miserable Graduates’ and they are too on a quest to help those crawl out from the depths of graduate despair. We will have to wait and see. In the meantime, I need to brush up on my maths. Scoring 75% on a test is a must to progress and I’m not even sure if I know how to do subtraction anymore.

Today has made something very clear for me. I’ve realised that for every Monday, there is a Tuesday. A beautiful day that makes up for the drizzle that drowned out the first daylight of, what is becoming, a very pleasant week. While I ponder my way through a creative application for TMP this evening I will do so with the utmost reassurance that in the next 3 weeks I already have 3 extremely beneficial interviews lined up. Who knows how many more emails will filter through this week. With hundreds of personally crafted submissions still circulating the airwaves around London, maybe more will travel back up the M11 this week and find solace in Stansted Mountfitchet. All that’s I can really do, for now, is thank Tuesday. Thank you for not raining. Thank you for some news. Thank you for making my week feel a whole lot better. You put Moanday, Monday, to absolute shame.