This week’s post is a stream of consciousness diary entry of sorts, and if you’re not into the meandering ruminations of a 35-year-old recent career pivotee, divert yourself elsewhere.
Herein, I discuss: Professional boundary setting, Kieran Culkin, conspiracy theories and Filofaxes.
It is Thursday evening and I have completed my first full week at my shiny new job. I’m doing a four-day week until some time later this year, TBC, so today marked the end of my first Head of Communications at POCO Beauty work week. And now, Substack – the cherry on top of my work sundae. I get to come home from work and do THIS lovely work which I value so much (thank you, as ever, for being here. I love you!).
The first four days have been just lovely. I’ve been listened to in meetings, my suggestions have not only been welcomed but taken on board and actioned, I’ve felt like a member of a team, like I’m part of something again… It really has been an incredibly enjoyable work week.
I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, sometimes – thinking ‘when’s it going to get bad? When will someone slam a door in my face or stop talking about when I enter the communal kitchen?’ Anyone who’s worked in Irish media for as long as I have (or in any bloody industry, let’s be real) will identify with that feeling where something is going suspiciously well so you await the inevitable “AHA, that’s why no one talks to the boss before 11am” moment of realisation. Thankfully I have yet to see any evidence at all that the other shoe will drop – I know I’ll get busier, things will get more hectic, more stressful… I’m kinda ready and excited for that.
The reason, I think, that I can get excited about such things at this juncture is that I’ve built professional boundaries. I didn’t realise I had, truthfully, until a conversation this week with a friend. I told her I don’t have my work emails on my phone.
“What? But what if you miss something?”