The tubes were against us this morning. Sod's law, the first day of the course when we all wanted to make a good impression, both lines running into Victoria station were down or delayed. My own nerves were all over the place as I finally managed to fight my way through the downpour into the Press Association this morning--late, but not last, ha! Luckily things soon settled down after we'd all finally introduced ourselves to each other face to face (as opposed to the facebook 'anyone started shorthand yet?' panicked messages we'd sent beforehand).
After a small group therapy session of sharing secrets along with our hopes, dreams, and political leanings, we were sent out into Victoria to assault innocent strangers with questions about the area. I remain adamant Sean and I would have scored more than half marks had he not insisted on stopping for a sandwich. After a quick lunch break (£6 quid for a bloody roll and drink--I'm remembering to pack a lunchbox tomorrow), Roberta regaled us all with a chat about the magazine industry, before throwing caution to the wind and sending us all off to research the potential jobs we could soon be doing. It is after all, the point of the course. The most popular options appeared to be becoming wine connoisseurs or moving to Dubai. See you all there, guys.
We were also informed about the new webzine we're going to be creating, which sounds very exciting (though I still think International Twerking would have been a great alternative). All in all, a successful first day I think. Now I'm going to crash out and pray that tomorrow, the tubes will be kinder.