My Second Job Offer Put Me in the Fetal Position

“Start small, that’s the best way into the business”

“You’ll never learn more in your life than if you start out in a small market”

“The first two years are the toughest, but trust me, you’ll never regret starting in a small market”

Over four years, this is the advice I was fed in every one of my lectures, discussions and internships. It sounded doable, romantic even- picking up and moving into a new city where nobody knows you, seeing a part of the country you’ve never been too, being able to make mistakes with minimal chance they’ll end up on YouTube. All those pieces of advice have all melted down into a mantra replaying in the back of my head, not really seeming like reality.

Until that day comes when I get a phone call from the a land-locked state somewhere in the Mid-West.

That day was yesterday.

I got a call from a station that, consequently, I thought would never call me again. The last time I spoke with them, I got the vibe I was too inexperienced for the gig. Needless to say, I was caught be surprise when I got the offer.

How surprised? I started bawling my eyes out. Oh and I only had one day to make a decision.

        PERMISSION TO FREAK OUT

I contacted all my ex-bosses, mentors, parents (yes, all TWO of them), half milking them for advice, half hoping they’d talk me out of it. I mean,  it’s a big move, I know no one, I don’t know Iowa, I’d be a total stranger in the livingrooms of locals responsible for telling them what’s going on in their community. Who would want to trust me with that? Right? AMIRIGHT!?

Thankfully, the voices I did talk to were more, um, composed than I was and were able to sell it to me like this:  it’s somewhere willing to not only give me a chance, but to train me and get me working so I can start improving. No wading pool job to only get my feet wet, but the diving pool where the kid two years older than you pushes you off the board when you take to long to jump in.

I’m still scared pants-less and the fact that I’m waiting for the station to call me back to talk about the offer is really not doing that much for my mental health (IM SO FRAGILE RIGHT NOW). Yesterday was a day of panic, hyperventilating, being convinced and unconvinced, and downright frightened of leaving the only coast I’ve called home. Today, my eyes still sting a little, but the coverup is doing wonders for my undereye circles. There’s still time to say no, but I think I’m leaning more towards y-e-s. We’ll see by this afternoon but hey, bigger chokes have happened in history.

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