I never thought I’d succumb to blogging. “I’m really not egotistical enough to presume anyone would be interested in my mindless self-indulgence,” I proclaimed with a wry smile, refreshing Facebooks newsfeed with a detached sense of irony. I’m such a maverick, man.
After great deliberation, and the daunting prospect of graduating from the international journalism degree I’m currently wading through, I put my metaphorical pen to paper in the vain hope of expanding my professional horizons.
“We’ll be an employer’s wet dream," my housemate tempts me with, as I muse over the enticing eventuality of offering a friendly handshake to every editor I meet, in the vain hope he’ll exchange my desperation for a weekly slot writing the obituaries.
It is my housemate, and fellow university colleague’s sickening determination and enthusiasm, which I have done my best to shake off. Seemingly though, I’ve caught that wretched journalism bug. So here we are, friends. General musings; dreams; desires; fears. I hope you find it sufficiently interesting and entertaining, in an approachable and relatable manner.
