Job!

At last! I have a real job, after months of floundering, unrealistic dreams of life changes. I'm a journalist at a local paper, after so much agonising about whether it was for me. In the end, I didn't really choose so much as had the job chosen for me. I thought Masters in Politics might delay real life for long enough to get a grip on what the hell I wanted to do, but I didn't factor in my alma mater's anal-retentiveness. Not having gone the authorised way, they consigned me to a bridging course. The same week, I was called out of the blue and told there was a job going and would I be interested and I said damn yes and I got the job perhaps because they thought I still lived locally, which was true when I sent them my resume. It's such a great feeling to be valued; to do work that is interesting; to talk to people for a living; to write daily, regardless of the straitjacket form journalism comes in. I think I've finally nailed the trifekta, after six months of feeling like crap: house, relationship, job.