Last Thursday I submitted my dissertation. Assuming I pass, this means I will soon be a Master of Letters. To celebrate, I went out for lunch, had a frozen margarita, packed and left St Andrews. I am also now re-reading Harry Potter. (It’s all about the guilty pleasures when you don’t have to worry about whether or not it will adversely affect your writing. I’m tired of reading books specifically because they might help with my WIP. I want to read something for the FUN of it. So, yes, Harry Potter. This will be the 8th or 9th time of reading HP and the Philosopher’s Stone because every time a new one came out, I re-read all the others and I think I might have re-read this one at another point, as well.)
So now I’m unemployed. I’m also 26 – it was my birthday on Sunday – so that’s, well, you know, I’m older. I had cake. That was the main thing. I was very much looking forward to the cake. It was good. (Thanks mum!)
But, yes, unemployed. Soon, I will ‘sign on’. Maybe tomorrow. Was supposed to do that today but it didn’t happen. So far, I’ve applied for one vacancy and found a few more that I’m interested in and think I have a chance of bagging. These are ‘real’, graduate-level jobs – communications officers and editors and that kind of thing. In the meantime, there’s a kitchen assistant job in a lovely cafe I’m going to go for and will probably get because I have two years experience (thanks wetherspoons) so that will give me some money and enable me to move in with the boyf, again. Kind of living with him, now, but his tiny bedroom (you wouldn’t fit a double-bed in here) isn’t ideal.
So, wish me luck!