I’m writing this at 12pm on the first day of my placement, purely because my computer is struggling to connect to the internet and it turns out no work can be done without it. So I’ll (try to) recount the weekend instead.
We took our tradition of ‘dangerous Fridays’ to a whole new level on Friday. In case you missed Sam’s blog a few weeks ago, dangerous Fridays involve leaving the PA and going to the pub, without eating dinner. This never ends well. We all tend to get inebriated quite quickly; sometime we fall asleep on the last train home (Sean), sometimes we hang around the platform for no real reason (Hywel), sometimes we get barred from the pub (Laura), sometimes we break down our own door to get in (Sean) and sometimes a harmless bromance ends in a one-night stand (Hywel and Sam).
But this Friday was the last Friday before placement and crucially, the Friday before our first Saturday off in six weeks. Tony was kind enough to pop some money behind the bar, and the drink of choice was wine.
The rest of the night is quite blurry. All I remember was glasses were smashed, the pub refused to serve us, we lost three of the team in Victoria station, ‘SHE SHAGS WHO SHE WANTS’ was sung loudly, we ended up in Soho, we got lost in the rain on the way to a club...at this point I went home but no doubt the evening got messier.
The moral of the story? The course is tough and stressful. We work long work days, Saturdays and Sundays, Roberta’s voice and Keith’s cutting remarks on your grammar haunt your dreams, you close your eyes and you see shorthand outlines (that one might just be me)...
So when you get to the end of week 6 – without a doubt the toughest week so far – the sense of achievement and relief is overwhelming. But most of all, we’ve become such good friends that it felt like we really deserved that night together.
My internet's up now, better start doing some of that journalism stuff.
Until next Dangerous Friday!