Back to school

Ok, no more excuses. The schools have gone back, green batches of freshers are about to embark on a year of testing their livers to the limit, and WHSmith’s has slashed 50% off its stationary prices. All the signs are there; we’re in September.
As a consequence, I must accept that my summer recess has come to an end. Such is the reason behind my blogging hiatus – well, that and an abundant dollop of anxiety caused by a serious state of employment limbo (what else?), but there’ll be time to go into that later.
For now, how about some News in Briefs chronicling my first week of term.

Seeing Red
There are plenty of people who would kill to be in my position, I know. A month’s placement with the features team on Red magazine is nothing to be sniffed at. But Oh. My. God. I am so over sorting post and photocopying. It’s my first day, so I know I’ll have to bide my time before I get to do any of the juicier stuff, but let me ask you this. Is it wrong that I want to stick a big fat sign to my head that reads I’M 27, HAVE HAD SEVERAL FULL-TIME JOBS AND AM A GOOD WRITER! Is it?

A lifeline
Waaahoooo! The day the workie got a by-line in a national newspaper! How often do people get to say that? I must say this brightened up the daily cuttings task no end. Because on page 22 of the Daily Mail was none other than the article I’d written on, well, on urine actually! To be more precise, it’s about a website called RunPee, that can conveniently tell you exactly when the best moments are in a movie to go to the loo. Genius. The piece was published as part of a regular slot called Lifelines. Apt. But I only discovered just how much the following day.

An aptly timed rejection
This morning brought a call I had been dreading for approximately three weeks. The terrifying rejection from a job I honestly, dangerously, believed was mine. I was shaking terrifically when I took the call – is this the end of my frugal months of job hunting? I knew instantly from the tone of voice on the other end that it was not. But instead of collapsing in uncontrollable despair, I was actually ok. This came as such a shock to me, that it made me feel even better about the whole situation, to the point where I decided I had something to celebrate and spent the evening drinking fizzy wine with a good friend. Why? It may seem like nonsense to so many of you who have been telling me this for the past few months, but I simply realised that the situation I find myself in has nothing to do with the fact that I’m a crap journalist. On the contrary; it’s because of our crap economy. So I made a decision. I’m going to carry on. I’m going to manage this situation the best I can and one day, maybe next month, maybe next year, I’ll be back in the job I really want. Until then, look out nationals – here I come!