My day starts in a manic panic, I make sure I have got everything I need and rush to the station to catch my train.
I am a trainee journalist studying at Highbury College on the NCTJ fast track newspaper journalism course. I live in Bournemouth and commute to Highbury in Portsmouth every day.
Once on the train my first priority is coffee, my trusted flask sees I begin the morning in the right way.
With caffeine inside me I begin my morning ritual, which starts with me trying to read my shorthand back from yesterday in preparation for my first lesson. The key word here is trying, most days it looks like hieroglyphics from a lost civilisation.
After half an hour I change trains, which gives me time to grab a couple of papers and catch up on the news.
The mid morning session was spent completing the production of the student paper the Highbury star. My role was limited today because this afternoon I was part of a three man group who were off to spend some time at the local paper.
The afternoon at the News started with such promise, we were met by a young journalist who announced that one of us would be helping her film a story and upload it to their website, which sounded like an exciting job and a great experience.
I soon found out that the news editor had a different plan for me; I was tasked with helping Chris Owen who writes the history column. I had to compile the, “On this day section” of Chris’s column.
I was placed in the archive room, which was dingy and badly lit and looked like it hadn’t seen a lick of paint in the last decade.
As I trawled through the archives I jealously imagined what my colleagues were doing; filming videos, writing copy and getting by-lines. I was interrupted periodically, by people peering in sympathetically telling me I had drawn the short straw.
Today definitely dispelled any belief that journalism was in any way glamorous, but I would not want to do anything else.
