A sisterhood with men (alternative title: $4 bottles of wine are an unemployed person’s best and worst friend).

As some of my readers know, I recently moved interstate from what most see as the cultural heart of Australia, Melbourne, to Tasmania; a state that generates more jokes about incest, hillbillies and vaginas than any other slice of the country. It has been quite a mental and physical shift for me and I’ve spent the last few weeks questioning the merits of such a decision…until today.

I can pinpoint the exact moment, it was the moment I walked through the doors of Room 214 for my course orientation. The room was absolutely jam-packed with people I could instantly identify with. The faces weren’t primarily those of young people fresh out of high-school (phew!), they were the faces of people who had reached a point in their career where they’d realized exactly what I had, that what they were doing wasn’t necessarily what they wanted to do with their lives, and had made the leap from a somewhat stable existence to student life.

Our campus head put us at ease by identifying herself as the person who ‘the faculty functions well without’. She gave us solid academic advice littered with general life advice, ‘if your birthday is coming up, ask for an internet connection, you’ll need it’ and introduced us to key staff who gave even more reassuring advice. We met second year students who talked of trials and tribulations and how nursing is a ‘sisterhood with men’ where students support and encourage each other. They genuinely encouraged us to shoot them an email, talk to our lecturers and seek support when needed.

I left the room with enough confidence to power a resume drop around the city and the belief that I’d made the right decision in moving because really, when have I ever been comfortable in living a life where the precipice of adventure is more than a hop, skip, jump away?

I’m riding on an academic high right now and know that I’ll have days where my perception of the world leans toward glass half empty (hearing from friends and family makes me feel like a piece of puzzle that feel off the table and landed under the couch) but the challenge is the reward.

A small update, that resume drop was worthwhile, I landed a trial at a local Turkish restaurant (hide yo’ hommus!) and a casual stock-take role with a nationwide company.

A further update, I don’t have an internet connection set up at home – this blog post is about a week old. I’ve since worked two shifts at the Turkish restaurant and another two stocktaking. Having income is absolute relief.

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