"I don't feel sick anymore"... Clare arrives
- Diary entry from Stupid's new production manager Clare Hardwick, covering the four days transition from promising career at prestigious film law specialists to working for a pittance on Age of Stupid -
On Monday I went for lunch at Cipriani with my supervisor and big boss. I felt on a real high, partly because the food was amazing and the bad-facelift-spotting opportunities second to none, but more than this, two people I respected the most were recognising how bloody hard I’d worked for two years only to be repeatedly screwed over and forgotten about.
On Tuesday I met a load of the new intake (25 fresh-faced lawyers-to-be start in September each year) and they reminded me how I’d literally dreamt of being a film lawyer and how excited I was two years ago – I thought a lot about how I could have handled my two years differently and looking at the glee on their faces I did start to wonder if I wasn’t chucking away the best thing I’d ever achieved. It was with a certain heartache that I finished all my work and packed two years of my life into boxes.
On Wednesday I had no work to do so I went and got a whole cake from Konditor and Cook, thinking “this is the last time I spend £22.50 on a cake”. When I got back, there were flowers from an associate lawyer I had worked with a lot and chocolates from my secretary on my desk - I didn't really know what to say. I invited all my favourite people round for cake and it really started to sink in that I wasn’t going to see these people everyday anymore. As much as the work made me feel like a sell-out, some of the people are really amazing – very kind and highly intelligent. Then I got another card and in it was a printed receipt - it took me a while to work out what it was. One of the guys in my intake who I had worked with a lot, had bought me a director’s chair with “HARDVARK” on the back (my nickname) – one of the best presents I have ever received and probably ever will. I also received lots more presents and personal cards (nothing like the generic best wishes and a bottle of wine most people get when they leave a big firm). I was truly overwhelmed. I don’t normally drink, but at my leaving drinks I’d decided to drink between 6pm and 8.30pm – this would give me enough time to sober up for what the morning had in store. The leaving drinks were packed but out of over 20 partners who had been invited, only one turned up (the same one who took me out for lunch). Drinking at a time when I was potentially very sad wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had. When the evening started to end I could feel a lump in my throat. Saying goodbye to my big boss I was fine (thank God). Then I had to say bye to my supervisor, who had put up with me everyday for six months and we’d become unlikely friends. I tried to pull away from his bear like hug but he hugged me tighter and I started to cry a bit. I tried to say thank you but I couldn’t speak.
I pulled myself together and was fine for a while. I then had to say goodbye to another friend who was still being treated quite badly by the firm. Saying bye to her was really hard as I felt like I was abandoning her and I started to cry properly. I could see everyone was really shocked to see me cry (I am not one for emotion at all) but I had been so overwhelmed by the day (and was probably more than a little drunk). I got home and cried most of the night – genuinely thinking that I’d just walked out of my dream job. I tried to remember the bad times but couldn’t. I could only remember our great lunch, all the presents and cards and kind words (the enormous salary that my friends were about to start raking in also cropped up). I’d shed a few private tears before (like when I got home after having stuff chucked at my head) but always pulled myself together – this time I couldn’t, I cried for hours (yes, I know, I was probably still quite pissed).
On Thursday I guess I must have slept a little bit as I woke up when my alarm went of at 7.30am. I had been told to get to the Curzon for the NGO screening at 8.30am. I piled on a ton of make-up to cover the massive bags under my eyes and the greyish tint of my skin. I didn’t feel hungover as such but did feel absolutely wretched about leaving a firm where so many would kill to work - I spent a good few minutes dry heaving on the big white telephone before I decided I'd rather risk puking than being late. I was the first one at the Curzon…I had no idea what I was meant to be doing so just smiled a lot (given how shit I felt, it was probably more of a bearing of teeth). Then Franny’s Dad arrived (I recognised him from the website). I really wanted him to give me a job to do - so I followed him around for a bit and then, getting a bit concerned that he must think I was a complete head-case, I went and waited back upstairs. Franny, Lizzie and Sasha arrived at about 9.15 – it all looked a bit chaotic really and I doubted even more leaving the “professionals” to work for a bunch of crazy ecos. [Lizzie notes: we are NEVER normally late for anything, but on this ONE occasion the taxi we were in broke down and we had to call another] I was thinking that I'd go back to my big boss, and tell him I'd made a big mistake or I'd take the break I clearly needed and approach another larger production company in a few weeks' time.
And then I saw the film on the big screen.... I had never seen the film in the cinema so, after helping set up a table and handing out some packs (all of which could have been done at half eight), Lizzie sent me in to watch it. For those who haven't seen the film, I won't spoil it but as Pete said those words "what state of mind were we in..." I remembered why I had taken this job. I knew exactly what state of mind we were in…The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and all thoughts of going back to the city, or on holiday or to another company evaporated, along with the sick feeling which had hung over me for two years.
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