Best not to think about it

A friend asked me recently what my biggest regret is. At the time I said I have a daily regret each night that I did not write enough of my novel that day.

Driving in to work this morning I found myself reconsidering the question and deciding that actually my biggest regret is not getting a job I once applied for. It would have been my first proper job. I would have been working in London, at one of the big players in Direct Marketing.

Not many minutes ago out of sheer curiosity I looked at this company's website - www.tmw.co.uk - and browsing through some of the features I saw a shot of a creative team with their names given under the pic. I was looking at a picture of one of the girls I met on the interview day, doing the job I wanted, the job I could be doing right now, if I hadn't been so feeble back then.

Now because I seem to be in a depress-myself kind of mood I then found myself googling this girl's name and I saw she came second in a young creatives award, with the other recruit from these awards coming in third.

"She beat over 900 applicants and took up the position of trainee copywriter in November 2003."

I beat over 900 applicants too, sounds pathetic that I try to raise my confidence in this way I know, but I've got to do something, I'm wallowing in regret here. There were 10 of us that beat 900 applicants, and 2 places up for grabs.

I thought I did okay at the interview. I was quietly hopeful. Turns out the quietness was the problem. My rejection letter said that while I had what it takes (blah blah - who actually finds that crap comforting when you're staring at a big fat NO), the fact was I was quieter than the other applicants. I spent nearly a whole day crying about that rejection. How pathetic is that.

And even more pathetic, it still bothers me.

But hang on a minute, let's think about things. I know I'd hate working in London. For starters there's the commute, then there's the over-confident arseholes I'd probably encounter regularly, probably even within the company. There's the drinking, partying culture I'd feel compelled to join.

The fact is I like where I live. I'm happiest pottering around my home, and I'm absolutley loving doing up my garden, and there's no way I'd have my gorgeous Jasper if I was working in London. Yes I know it's all for the best and this is just a temporary 'grass is greener' syndrome but ouch does regret sting.

I should use this. I should concentrate all my energy into doing what I really want to do. I want to make enough money from my writing so that I can stay at home and do that full-time.

I've been thinking about sending off three chapters of a 'just-for-fun' story I've been writing to a well-known romance publisher. It's been so easy to write and if I use a pseudonym it doesn't need to interfere with my other, more serious writing! Shall I do it?