After writing about a million different beginnings to this blog post, all of which I felt were incredibly cheesy, I will start with a simple HIYA. Since my last blog post, which feels like it was a million years ago, a lot has happened. I slaved away day and night writing my dissertation (from which the hard work actually paid off, and I won an award and a little bit of money for it), I did a LOT of travelling, I graduated uni, and I got a new job and moved countries. As you do.
Twenty bloody four. Sorry, but how is that even possible? It only feels like yesterday that I was chugging a bottle of Frosty Jack’s on a Grimsby field with Basshunter on repeat.
(This isn’t a recent thing. I was 15 – although I am a bit partial to Basshunter every now and then.)
I actually turned 24 at the end of July, but I’ve been so busy trotting across the globe that it hasn’t really sunk in until now. Being jet-lagged and drinking countless cocktails doesn’t really gel well, which is why I don’t have a very clear memory of this year’s birthday. That probably has something to do with it too.
But the reality would sink in eventually, just like it always does. The reality being that I am approaching my mid-twenties, which is just downright terrifying.
Here’s 24 things you learn by the age of 24.
It was generically reading Eat, Pray, Love six years ago because everyone else was doing it that made me want to go to Bali in the first place. So, when I finally got around to doing so, and found out that tourists are able to go and see the actual son of the medicine man from the book, I obviously jumped on board.
Being a Journalism Studies student at the University of Sheffield, I had the amazing opportunity of undertaking a work placement at the Press Association for a week towards the end of June. The experience itself was a whole host of things, positive and negative; liberating, scary, eye-opening, and stressful. All at the same time.
I’ve been to London countless times for sunny weekend breaks, but I’ve never had the chance to stay for longer than two or three days. So I got to see a whole different side of London during the week I stayed there – away from the bustling tourist hotspots to a vibrant, deadline-laden office next to Victoria Station. Long story short, it was pretty interesting.
Here’s a few things I learned.
It’s not surprising that January is considered to be the most depressing month of the year. One too many mince pies at Christmas caused us to gain a few pounds, and our New Year’s resolutions are already long forgotten. Christmas is such a happy, joyful time surrounded by the 3 vital f’s: family, friends and food. So when that’s all over, is it any wonder that we’re left feeling a bit lost, not really knowing what to do with ourselves?