Packing Panic.

Three months. That’s how much notice I had to give work when I decided to quit my job.

Three months to work out my travel ‘game plan’ (oops, don’t really have one of those!) and pack up my life nice and neatly into plastic storage tubs, for an indefinite period overseas. 

I even gave myself a whole week between my last day at work and boarding the plane – and do you think I was organised?

Ummm no.

I mean, I wasn’t completely disorganised – my car selling, phone plan cancelling, farewell party timeline was perfect .. but the kind of important packing part I left to the night before.

Big mistake when you have way more clothes than you realised, a smaller suitcase than you realised and a ‘heatwave’ in London that messes with your “I’m only taking warm things” plan.

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One of the shortlists…

The Gi simply had to go in first – but it needed a couple of patches sewn on, cue mum painstakingly doing the honours the day before.

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“I don’t have a thimble! This is terrible for my carpal tunnel you know.”

I think I packed, unpacked and packed again about ten times. I begrudgingly filled the suitcase space bags that were meant to be saved for later (post Thailand shopping spree).

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The MMA gloves got left behind. =(

And even now as I sit by a rooftop pool eating cherries in the middle of bustling Bangkok, I’m not happy with my effort.

But – what can you do?! I made the plane, and I made it to Bangers where I’m staying a few days with the lovely Marissa before I continue the hellishly long flight to the UK.

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Obligatory leaving snap – mum still working on the iPhone photo-taking skills.
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Dream achieved – time to chase the next one.

Working on a top rating breakfast radio show in your hometown – it doesn’t get much better than that. Until it does – you’re moved to a top rating drive radio show in your hometown.

Hello sleep ins! Hello life!

That’s the bliss I have found myself experiencing this year, after three incredible years reading the news for the Matt and Jo Show on the Fox – and being a ‘Best News Presenter’ finalist at the 2012 ACRAs.

Photo: In2Events.com
Photo: In2Events.com

 

'Star' themed party. My boobs had help.

I’ve worked hard, I’ve moved states for job opportunities, I have set alarms for 2:32am (yes, newsreaders wake up even earlier than breakfast announcers).

I’ve loved every minute of my radio journey – from the clunky graveyard shifts at SYN, to walking to work at 2LM and ZZZ in Lismore with a torch to make sure I didn’t step on cane toads, to the bright lights of Bris (go Roar) Vegas and Nova – to (Melbourne versus) Sydney, and back home to Melbourne.

After I graduated Swinburne’s Commercial Radio course at age 20 and scored my first full time job, I told myself “cap city by 25.”

Grad Dip Arts/Commercial Radio, RIP.
Grad Dip Arts/Commercial Radio, RIP.

My welcome home party was also my 25th birthday bash.

It’s a really weird feeling when you realise you’re working your ultimate dream job, the job you secretly think you may never get to do, but if you come close that’ll be pretty awesome.

And then you realise as awesome as it is, it’s also leaving you craving the next dream.

So I’m taking off in a few months time to chase it, so proud and grateful for everything I have achieved, and all the amazing friends I have made.

I’m nervous and excited – feeling those same emotions I felt when I sat behind a radio microphone for the first time.