Relief, sweet relief
My first week of my second stint down here is about to end. It’s been a disappoiting one. I’ve found it hard to get back into the swing of things, which probably comes from a whole semester of not writing any news copy. The writing problem, however, extended beyond news copy.
I finally handed in my international relations (IR) assignment today. It was, officially, seven weeks overdue. I think my tutor is going to give me some sort of overall pass in the subject. For this I will love her forever. I do not deserve it, and anyone who did any work in that subject can be justifiably angry that I might be given credit for the amount of effort I put in. If you count depression and angst as effort, I experienced plenty of that.
I worked straight through last night as I tried to finish my assignment; I hit the wall about an hour ago and everything started going downhill. I’m a little more perky now that I’m blogging.
I’ve had little motivation this week, this year. Every time I sit down to write lately I’d rather be doing something else. I don’t think it’s a healthy situation for a wannabe journalist to be in. The IR boogeyman is no longer hanging over my shoulder, constantly reminding me I should be working on something, should be getting it handed in, so tonight I can relax, without guilt, for the first time in two months. My semester finally officially over and behind me, I can get back into real life.
I’m not sure how much I should write here about where I work. Not the town, but the paper. I want to be a journalist. Some of what I do here is not journalism, it is advertising. Paid editorial copy. Last time I was here for six weeks I got the idea that journalism was basically advertising for whoever you were doing a story on. That’s what this paper taught me. I don’t believe it anymore. That’s not what journalism is always like, is it? It is so incredibly boring to write what are essentially press releases. I need more.
This weekend I’m working some. I go to the speedway on Saturday to cover the last race of the season, and back out to WW on Sunday for a 100th birthday.
I have 105 unread messages in my Gmail account. Not because they’re spam, not because I haven’t checked it every five minutes. I just don’t care to read them. Don’t fret, they’re unimportant. On that note, a reminder, I still have two Gmail accounts I can give away. 1 GB of storage space…
The coffee and sugar is wearing off and I’m falling asleep again. It’s time to go. Have a good weekend everyone.