MidReal Story
Wanderlust Chronicles
Scenario: Tout va changer, avec ce nouveau métier tu vas pouvoir etre libre de voyager, de passer du temps avec tes amis en travaillant seulement quelques heure par jour. Pas de pression, pas d'urgence, juste ta vie de reve
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‘You’re doing what?’
my best friend, Alex, asked me in disbelief.
‘I’m quitting my job to become a travel writer,’ I repeated, nervously twirling a strand of my long blonde hair round my finger.
‘But you’ve never written anything in your life,’ Alex pointed out.
He was right.
I worked as a junior account executive for Quest PR, one of the most prestigious and demanding agencies in the business.
But even after almost two years in the job, the most creative writing I’d done was working on a press release about a new mascara.
I didn’t want to be a part of the rat race anymore.
‘So, when are you off to the Amazon then?’
‘Well, I might start with Europe first and work my way up,’ I replied.
Alex gave me a look that suggested he thought I was crazy.
Sarah Lee and I were sitting in my living room drinking coffee and eating chocolate digestives while Alex ridiculed my new career choice.
‘It won’t last,’ he said confidently.
‘Ten quid says it does,’ I replied.
‘I’d like to see you try,’ he said, folding his arms across his chest.
‘No one’s stopping me,’ I replied with a shrug.
Alex and Sarah both stared at me in silence for a moment before Sarah said: ‘I’ve read about this travel writing competition that’s being held by the Sunday Times.’
‘I haven’t,’ Alex admitted.
‘Well, the winner gets to do paid work experience at The Sunday Times Travel Magazine,’ Sarah explained.
‘Cool,’ Alex said.
‘But it’s not all expenses paid, is it?’
‘No, you have to pay your own way there and back, but that’s it.’
‘And what do you get paid if you win?’
Alex asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Sarah ignored him and continued: ‘The competition is only open to people who have never been published before.’
‘So, that’s your way into the industry sorted then,’ Alex said as if he’d just solved the mystery of life itself.
Sarah looked at me expectantly.
‘What do you think?’
‘I think it’s a fantastic idea,’ I said.
‘I can’t wait to get started.’
‘You start that job at The Sunday Times on Monday,’ Alex said.
‘I’ll see you in two weeks when you realise that being a travel writer isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.’
‘You’re on,’ I said.
I was going to prove him wrong.
I was going to be a travel writer or die trying.
As it turned out, I didn’t have to wait two weeks for my challenge to begin.
The following morning, I walked into work and announced to my boss that I was quitting.
‘This is a joke, right?’
my boss asked me when I told him my news.
‘No,’ I said firmly.
‘I want a job that allows me to be creative and I don’t feel like this one does.
I’m not going to spend the rest of my life working for an agency that has no respect for its staff just because they pay me a good wage.’
‘But where will you go?
And what will you do?
Have you got another job lined up?’
‘I’m going to be a travel writer,’ I said.
My boss just stared at me for a moment before he said: ‘We have a deadline to meet on this Quest Cosmetics project.
Can you at least stay until we’ve finished it?’
I sighed heavily.
I didn’t want to be there for another second, but I didn’t want to make things difficult for my colleagues either.
‘I can stay until we’re finished this project,’ I said.
‘Good,’ he said.
‘I’ll reassign all your other projects to other members of staff then.
But I want you to concentrate all your efforts on this one.
Our client is counting on us.’
That was how I found myself spending my last days at Quest PR writing a 25 page document on why people should buy Quest Cosmetics instead of using other products.
It wasn’t easy and I didn’t get much sleep for those three days but when I finally handed it in on Friday afternoon, I knew I’d done a great job.
‘I don’t know why you’re working so hard now that you’re leaving,’ the girl who sat next to me said as she watched me frantically typing away.
‘Because I don’t want to leave anything unfinished,’ I replied.
‘But you’re going to be a journalist now,’ she said.
‘What does it matter if this isn’t perfect?’
I wanted to throw the mug of tea that I’d been drinking at her head.
Instead, I just smiled and said: ‘It matters to me.’
I was sitting at my desk working on the document when I heard the ping of an incoming message on my mobile phone.
It was from Alex Johnson, the owner of AJ Electronics and my best friend since primary school.
I glanced at the clock and saw that it was almost 5:30 p.m.
I wondered what he wanted to talk to me about that couldn’t wait until tomorrow but as soon as I read the message, it all made sense: ‘Can we meet up for dinner tonight?
I think I have a new project that will change both our lives forever x’
I read the message twice more just to make sure that I hadn’t misread it.
He had to be mistaken.
He must have sent the message to the wrong person by mistake because there was no way that Alex could ever do anything that would change my life for the better.
I was so excited that I could hardly concentrate for the rest of the afternoon and by the time 6:00 p.m.rolled around and it was time for me to go home, I’d barely written anything in the last hour.
