Every single day of my life felt like the last. I always went through my same routine every day, got up in the morning, went to work, came home, watched TV, ate, and then slept. It was never exciting, it was always the same grueling amount of work. Occasionally I would hang out with my friends, but they aren't the type of people you'd really want to spend a Friday night with. Through it all, I would wear the same pair of shoes; those same white Converse. I wear them everywhere, to work, out on my big “Friday night”, and home. These shoes have been through every single day of my boring routine. I wear them everywhere, but yet at the same time, I wear them nowhere. Before work, I stopped at the usual Starbucks, bought grande iced coffee with skim, and headed to work. I wore my brown hair in its usual pony tail, wearing my usual casual skirt and suit for work. Even though my life was normal, it was pretty original. I had a job at a newspaper company, and I was a part of the writing staff. That's the only exciting part of my life, besides my white converse. When I get to my desk at work, I find my boss coming over to me; he wants to talk to me in his office. Me?!? Really?!? This is defiantly not a routine of mine. When I get to his office, I shut the door behind me as he says,
“Take a seat Emma, I have something I need to talk to you about.” My boss, Mr. Wright, is pretty much the stereotypical newspaper editor you'd imagine. Everything you would expect him to be mostly because He's bald, he wears a suit every day, and he always has a pencil in his ear. He's a very good boss, though, because he always looks for us to push forward and find out information for our articles that nobody would think to write about. There is something I like about being pushed out of my element or comfort, instead of writing about the same things or the same things other journalists have already written about a hundred times.
“Well, here's the thing...” I get a little nervous as the tone of his voice gets more and more sorrowful.
“You are a pretty young girl- you don't have to be settled down into one job right?” He questions, leaving me ready to break down. I know where this talk is headed, and I don't know what I would do if I was let go. Just as I was opening my mouth to plead for my job back, Mr. Wright exclaims,
“Wait! Let me finish. Since you are young, and an aspiring writer, I have decided to send you to London, England. They are looking for an American writer who would be willing to work in their office, The Times, and live there. You don't have to accept, but I mentioned your name because I believe you are ready for it. You would be provided with an apartment to live in and pay rent, or as they call it there, 'flat'! Think about it, and then get back to me.”
Going to London has been a dream of my since as long as I can remember. I always loved the idea of being in London, looking out at the beautiful architecture and knowing that I live there. Not only the beauty, but as a writer I have always wanted to strive myself to make it there, because for me it always seemed like journalism was such a big part of life in England. There are so many good writers there, so I have always just wanted to go. Knowing that I might never get an opportunity like this again, I know I need to take this offer. This will not only give me the chance to pursue my dream and live it, but this is also my chance for a non-boring life and I'm not going to let it slip away.
“I'd love to take the job!”
“Great! Consider yourself transferred!” Mr. Wright responds, with excitement for me in his eyes.
“When do I leave?” I ask, anxious as ever.
“On Friday, so four days. No need to come back to work now, consider today your last day on the job!”
“Thank you so much for this opportunity Mr. Wright!” I finally say excitedly as I leave the room. I can't believe it, I'm going to London, and I couldn't of been more ready in my life.
Friday couldn't have come more slowly as I anticipated the leave to London every single day since I got the news. As I made my drive to the airport, I couldn't help but imagine what my life is going to be like in London. I keep imagining it as being perfect, this life of excitement that I've always wanted finally becoming a reality. I went through security and all the procedures of the airport until I finally got to my flight, and sat on the chair waiting for it to be called. I looked down at my white converse, playing around with my feet until I hear my flight being called out. Sitting on the plane, knowing I'm on my way to London makes me so excited to finally just get off. For the next seven hours of my plane ride, I transfer from thinking about my dream life in London, to watching movies on the little TV, to reading a magazine, and so on. The flight attendants announce we have landed, and I feel chill down my spine as I walk off and into the London airport. Once I got outside, I look around to the cool London air on my face and I know I am home.
Getting to my new “flat” took less time as I expected, and it was nicer than I expected. It was small, but completely furnished and perfect for just me to live in, having one bedroom, one bathroom, all in the same small hallway with a kitchen opened up to the main room. It was perfect, and all mine. I took off my white converse and set them on the ground as I started to get at least my clothes unpacked. Just as I was getting myself settled, I hear a knock on the door. I open it to see a man, he seems about my age and is very handsome.
“Hi there! My names Henry! I'm one of your neighbors. Just wanted to see how you are settling in.” He says, his smile warm and inviting as he flashes one to me.
“Thank you, I'm doing really well! Everyone has been so nice to me and I just moved in!” I respond seemingly nervous as I'm not used to this.
“Well I'm glad! If you need help, come to me!” He states flashing a handsome smile again.
“Thank you! I will see you around!”
“You will.” He says before leaving down the hall. I close the door and begin to smile stupidly as I continue to put away all my things. I check the time, and I realize it is a different time zone, so it is already late. I have my first day of work tomorrow, and I want to get a lot of sleep. As I turn off the lights, I look at the white converse . . .
“Take a seat Emma, I have something I need to talk to you about.” My boss, Mr. Wright, is pretty much the stereotypical newspaper editor you'd imagine. Everything you would expect him to be mostly because He's bald, he wears a suit every day, and he always has a pencil in his ear. He's a very good boss, though, because he always looks for us to push forward and find out information for our articles that nobody would think to write about. There is something I like about being pushed out of my element or comfort, instead of writing about the same things or the same things other journalists have already written about a hundred times.
“Well, here's the thing...” I get a little nervous as the tone of his voice gets more and more sorrowful.
“You are a pretty young girl- you don't have to be settled down into one job right?” He questions, leaving me ready to break down. I know where this talk is headed, and I don't know what I would do if I was let go. Just as I was opening my mouth to plead for my job back, Mr. Wright exclaims,
“Wait! Let me finish. Since you are young, and an aspiring writer, I have decided to send you to London, England. They are looking for an American writer who would be willing to work in their office, The Times, and live there. You don't have to accept, but I mentioned your name because I believe you are ready for it. You would be provided with an apartment to live in and pay rent, or as they call it there, 'flat'! Think about it, and then get back to me.”
Going to London has been a dream of my since as long as I can remember. I always loved the idea of being in London, looking out at the beautiful architecture and knowing that I live there. Not only the beauty, but as a writer I have always wanted to strive myself to make it there, because for me it always seemed like journalism was such a big part of life in England. There are so many good writers there, so I have always just wanted to go. Knowing that I might never get an opportunity like this again, I know I need to take this offer. This will not only give me the chance to pursue my dream and live it, but this is also my chance for a non-boring life and I'm not going to let it slip away.
“I'd love to take the job!”
“Great! Consider yourself transferred!” Mr. Wright responds, with excitement for me in his eyes.
“When do I leave?” I ask, anxious as ever.
“On Friday, so four days. No need to come back to work now, consider today your last day on the job!”
“Thank you so much for this opportunity Mr. Wright!” I finally say excitedly as I leave the room. I can't believe it, I'm going to London, and I couldn't of been more ready in my life.
Friday couldn't have come more slowly as I anticipated the leave to London every single day since I got the news. As I made my drive to the airport, I couldn't help but imagine what my life is going to be like in London. I keep imagining it as being perfect, this life of excitement that I've always wanted finally becoming a reality. I went through security and all the procedures of the airport until I finally got to my flight, and sat on the chair waiting for it to be called. I looked down at my white converse, playing around with my feet until I hear my flight being called out. Sitting on the plane, knowing I'm on my way to London makes me so excited to finally just get off. For the next seven hours of my plane ride, I transfer from thinking about my dream life in London, to watching movies on the little TV, to reading a magazine, and so on. The flight attendants announce we have landed, and I feel chill down my spine as I walk off and into the London airport. Once I got outside, I look around to the cool London air on my face and I know I am home.
Getting to my new “flat” took less time as I expected, and it was nicer than I expected. It was small, but completely furnished and perfect for just me to live in, having one bedroom, one bathroom, all in the same small hallway with a kitchen opened up to the main room. It was perfect, and all mine. I took off my white converse and set them on the ground as I started to get at least my clothes unpacked. Just as I was getting myself settled, I hear a knock on the door. I open it to see a man, he seems about my age and is very handsome.
“Hi there! My names Henry! I'm one of your neighbors. Just wanted to see how you are settling in.” He says, his smile warm and inviting as he flashes one to me.
“Thank you, I'm doing really well! Everyone has been so nice to me and I just moved in!” I respond seemingly nervous as I'm not used to this.
“Well I'm glad! If you need help, come to me!” He states flashing a handsome smile again.
“Thank you! I will see you around!”
“You will.” He says before leaving down the hall. I close the door and begin to smile stupidly as I continue to put away all my things. I check the time, and I realize it is a different time zone, so it is already late. I have my first day of work tomorrow, and I want to get a lot of sleep. As I turn off the lights, I look at the white converse . . .