Stop the Presses! Where’s the Tea?

It takes a passion that can move mountains when a broke and debt-floundering graduate is willing to sacrifice regular work in favour of a weeks unpaid work experience at the local rag. I am not this person, luckily I have heisted my week of pencil-licking from my paid annual leave so I am if anything better off as the wealth that is experience will surely prove. In hopes.

I am no less of a debt-flounder but at least I can happily admit that I am not impoverished after 6 months of slogging behind my recruitment desk and so earn the honeypot of qualifications I will aspire to achieve if my rekindled love of social drinking does not assuage a disciplined daily structure to yeild to sleep and the Jeremy Kyle Show.

Nevertheless my true calling is that of journalism, of the power of the written word and I have enjoyed bashing out stories for the most part of the day and listening in on the hubub of the newsroom, interviews and editorial meetings. My duties thus far have been pitiful but I am grateful of any job that I can do and do well while I paddle in the Trainee-Reporter pool for the duration. If it makes my reference look any more positive then I am not going to turn my nose-up at writing 50 words on the new foreign cheese stall at the market.

My only real qualm at this stage (besides perhaps not being allowed to do as much as I would like yet) is that nobody seems to drink tea! I thought journalists would at least have one steaming Americana perfuming the office even if it isn’t tea, I can still live with a sweet coffee but these people do not drink hot beverages. On my lazy walk home I wondered about how much water they drink and consoled myself that it must be gin or vodka and that they are tough, so tough, that caffeine just doesn’t flip the pancake. Sadly, I think this particular publication is less into tea and more into fruit smoothies. What on earth will I do? I resorted to buying a plastic cup of sandwich-shop tea which did the job quite nicely however by 1pm I was gasping! Pitfall of the job I suppose.

It was interesting though, walking home, as I honestly felt satisfied like I was walking home after a hard day at work – the work I am supposed to be spending 10 hours of my day on. The real work, not the one that pays the bills, the one that pays off the peace of mind and ticks that ellusive box accompanying the legend “Job Satisfaction”.

It is only day one so lets not get ahead of ourselves but you know when things just feel… right.


3 Responses

  1. Tea is much better than fruit smoothies.

  2. On a serious note, I respect your perseverance. I am debt-ridden and attempting to finish a postgraduate degree. I get a great deal of ‘job-satisfaction’ and not a lot else. Of course, I couldn’t do it without tea.

  3. as a fellow writer and tea lover i can totally sympathize. maybe you should bring in a selection of tea bags and leave it near a sink to encourage others to try it-and maybe then you’ll be awakened and greeted by the caffeinated, lovely aromas.

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