I have mixed feelings about media law. Sure, it's essential in our attempts to forge a career and save the world from mediocre journalism. But it's also a big, fat pain in the ass, especially when you 'passed' the mock exam and probably did worse in the real thing.
Whatever. It's done now. But the same can't be said for grammar and magazine industry. Nobody got through those unscathed. I guess that's why we have a day dedicated to re-sits. Planned failure: what will they think of next?
Tomorrow is the final shorthand exam. It's painfully evident that I will never reach the hallowed heights of 100wpm by then. I sucked at it to start with, and two weeks on placement didn't exactly help. Maybe I'll be able to get past 60 if I rock out to Marie Cartwright tonight.
Three days remain on the course. I must admit that I'm freaking out on the inside. Of course, I'm glad to be nearing the end. We've learnt so much and come so very far. This course has taken over to the point where I don't remember what 'real life' actually is.
But I've become used to it. I'm fearful of getting out there. PMA is bit like a really nice version of what I imagine prison to be. We've spent our days behind bars, traded countless cigarettes, been rehabilitated and made into better people. And now that it's nearing the time to be set free, one thought constantly springs to mind: "What now?"
And don't say "get a job", because I will stomp on your head.