One week in
I wrote to Tom today about my drum machine, I accidentally lied because I said I got a drum machine for my birthday but it was a Christmas present. I often get Christmas and my birthday mixed up.
I noticed about drumming that I thrive on momentum. I’ll be in time, and high on the feeling. Until I misstep, then I panic/stop/thrash. When that happens it’s hard to get back in time… or try again. I wait on the sidelines for a moment when I feel like I can jump back in.
That’s what this time feels like… waiting for a moment, and composing myself, to jump back in.
![curing my hair as I type](https://blogs.brighton.ac.uk/nina/files/2021/01/pink-e1610271080952.jpg)
curing my hair as I type this blog post
I had a great meeting today at work; it was positive and supportive. In moments like these I remember why I love education outreach. It feels amazing when you meet someone who is so passionate about the way education has changed their life that they want to support others into education.
I find it easy to get swept up in my work. So easy to beat myself up for not achieving the goals I had hoped for my role. Frustrated with incomplete data, angry at policies, hurt that I haven’t been able to obtain actual practical support for someone who asks for it… But then I sometimes meet people who are vocal and want to make a change. And I can see the good they are bringing to their life and community.
It makes it feel worthwhile. The spreadsheets and ugly website plugins, the what-sometimes-feels-like-endless meetings where I can’t sleep for days because my anxiety is sooo bad because I may have to talk or give a presentation, the news and briefings I have to scroll through with a mixture of confusion about the terminology used and sadness that the statistics are so bleak, my emails that never get answered, the oddness of finding the very sector that aims to support access so incredibly inaccessible.
But, meh, I’ll get there.