Up until now I have been fairly comfortable in the knowledge that I will have a few thousand pounds in the bank when I embark upon my European adventure. The prospect of having to find work to make ends meet has been a vague notion that I will probably encounter at some point over the summer, and one not to be particularly concerned about. Well that was last week. I am now staring down the barrel of a very depleted, hungry looking bank account that doesn't look like it will stand up to the onslaught of road tax, european truck insurance, pet travel plan and other unforeseen expenditures that are due to suck it dry this month. So how exactly did that happen? How did I get it so wrong? And what on earth am I going to do about it? (hint: the absolutely wrong answer is to run back to the safety of my old life and go get my old job back).
Well to answer the first question, the lessons learned are many:
Lesson one:
When you take a 20 year old 7.5 tonne truck to its MOT and service, abandon any notion that all will be fine and expect to part with over £1000. Painful but necessary - if the truck isn't on the road then this whole adventure blows apart.
Lesson two:
The fact that you own a car too just doubles the trouble.
Lesson three:
When planning on installing your wood burner at home, realise that you will be haunted by the fear of incompetence and poisoning yourself with carbon monoxide. Cue professional installation at a hit of £500. Albeit by a very charming smithy in rural Devon.
Add to that the ongoing various costs of materials (solar generator, solar panel, photovoltaic cabling, wood burner, sealant, screws, sanding belts, paint, undercoat, primer, wood, other tools of various types).. the list is endless.. and suddenly the small but comforting cushion that quelled my anxiety and gave me the freedom to just GO without fear has been pulled out from under me and I am left sitting on a rather bare, cold, harsh concrete slab wondering what the hell I am going to do.
And so onto that question. And into the really good stuff. What am I made of? How am I going to tackle this obstacle, emotionally and practically?
Well, the obvious knee jerk reaction is to fall into my default pattern of the last decade - go get a six month doctor contract somewhere not very exciting doing something that will make my soul scream and my brain shrivel but crucially pays the bills and provides security. Hopefully by my tone you have ascertained that this is a no-go option. Good. One negative habit broken. But as the space for other opportunities opens, a suspicious idea pops into my head and starts to grow: one I feel is just a substitute for the doctor bit - enticing for it's security, exciting for it's unknown quality, but none the less will shackle me to the UK, or worse still to London, where my dream of barefoot truck lifestyle will wither and die. This is the idea of creating a semi-medical career, for example medical writing, or medical digital start-up or medical technology development. Every sensible fibre in my body is telling me that (mostly due to my financial hardship) I should explore these opportunities and carve out a new, neat career for myself and become a successful thirty something.
Aaaaaah, this conflicts me madly. Haven't I just spent the last six months nurturing myself to live the dream? Is this barefoot hilltop life everything I want? Or, more likely, am I a mixture of wilderness child and ambitious intelligent overachiever? And if so, how on earth do I marry the two?
So here we are readers, welcome to the dilemma that is my life. These questions have been in my mind, quietly tapping me on the shoulder for a while now, but because I have had not felt any financial pinch I have largely ignored them, hoping to head off to a warm summer without having to really deal with my inner conflicts. But it seems my life had other ideas for me and now here I am, on a blustery, mild, overcast Oxfordshire day, contemplating the uncomfortable truths about my inner balance.
The trouble is, I'm quite stubborn. And I know that if I left tomorrow I would find a way of making it all work with hand to mouth jobs. I would be proud of myself for a while, and maybe would learn a lot about who I am and benefit hugely. But if I am completely honest, I don't know if that would be enough for me. I want to live in my truck somewhere beautiful with a bee hive, piglets, chickens and a vege garden. But I also want to ride my bicycle with it's hessian basket to a stimulating, engaging, dynamic job where I can engage my brain, challenge myself and make good money.
As you will no doubt know, I am also just a touch impatient. I want to have worked all this 'stuff' out yesterday. So living through the last few months (and the prospect of more months of discovering myself) have been very hard. It's almost impossible to decipher whether I am heading myself towards complete disaster (and should therefore apply for the medical writing job in London) or whether actually I am on the brink of something really important and just need to hold my nerve.
