Career driven

March 2000. The second semester of my first year at Bristol University. Or the University of Bristol as it prefers to call itself.

Anyway, floating around the English department were a bunch of flyers about careers in IT and the Media. I'm not sure why they were floating. Maybe something they were doing at the Physics department down the road. I was a fairly conscientious student... in terms of getting myself a job at the end of my degree anyway. And with a background in website design (well, as much of a background as you can have at age 20) I thought I'd poddle along to the Careers department to check out what they had to offer.

Now, people who know me - and even those who don't - are often impressed by the severity of my directional inability. I get lost in: shopping centres, my home town, the local park... Bizarrely New York City is the only place where I never seem to get disoriented. And Australia. Go figure. So it won't surprise you to know that in the six months or so I'd been at uni by that time, I didn't really know where the street with the Careers department in Bristol was. (For future reference, it's about a hundred yards from the English department.)

I wandered lost-ish in the right sort of area for a while. At this stage, totally co-incidentally - I bumped into a girl who I'd been at school with. We'd been in the same year, but never friendly - she was very stand-offish and a bit up herself... Let's face it, she was an Annabelle. Not the Annabelle, but an Annabelle. But I thought she might know where the Careers department was. We made politer conversation than we'd ever done at school and she pointed at the building across the road. "That's it there," she Annabelled at me.

In I trotted and up the stairs I went. A cheerful reception desk greeted me. "Hello, can I help you?" the receptionist asked.

"Erm, yes, I was wondering if I could talk to someone about my career. I saw some flyers in the English department..."

"Well, we normally ask that you make an appointment in advance..."

I interrupted a bit, "Oh, I don't need an appointment - just any info you have to hand will be fine..."

"No, no, I was going to say that actually there's been a cancellation, and Pat should be able to see you in a minute. Is there anything in particular you want to discuss?"

"Well, it was specifically around IT careers in the media."

"OK, and your name please?"

We did the necessary, and she showed me through into the room to wait for Pat. The room wasn't quite what I'd expected - pretty large, two comfy chairs, and a beanbag. And, bizarrely, a box of tissues.

I perched myself on a comfy chair and waited. And waited.

Eventually the door creaked open, and the oldest person I have ever seen in my life creaked into the room, walking stick ahead of her.

"Hello, I'm Pat," she said.

"Hello, I'm Laura." I stood up and shook her papery frail hand. I didn't want to be ageist but I did wonder how much she was likely to know about the latest media IT developments.

She sat down. On a beanbag. Jesus Christ, this 90 year-old woman was never going to be able to stand again.

"So, Laura," Pat said, soothingly, "I hear you're worried about your career."

"Well, not really worried, no... just kind of considering my options."

"Would you say you worry about a lot of things? Would you describe yourself as a worrier?"

"Well, I suppose I am a bit of a worrier... but..."

"Hmm, that's interesting. So you're worried about your career - where would you say that pressure came from? Your school? Your parents? Yourself?"

"Erm... Well, I was really just hoping to get a bit more information on next steps really."

"Oh there are lots of next steps Laura, don't worry about that. Plenty of time, and plenty of options to explore. Medication works wonders these days you know."

"Sorry?" I wondered if she meant her own medication. Of which she clearly wasn't on enough.

"Absolutely - and there really isn't a stigma attached anymore. So, back to this worry. Tell me about your mother."

At this point the penny dropped. The tissues, the beanbags, the ancient do-gooder... "Pat, is this the Careers department?"

"No - it's Student Counselling."

"Ah. I think I'm in the wrong place. Sorry."

"Freud said there are no mistakes Laura. And I think we've got a lot to explore. I would like you to come back every week for - shall we say four weeks, and see how we're getting on then?"

Fucking Annabelles. Can't trust them.