I'm a bit caught up in the US election tonight... Radio 4 is on, and I'm clicking obsessively around the Guardian website, and yelling about every flicker of activity amongst a load of Americans over IRC. Not exactly something I'd ever feel poetic about, but I like the way everything's kind of fallen around it. School is cancelled tomorrow, as the heating has broken, and I'm seriously considering pulling an all-nighter for this - I know it's a cliché, but it's history...
Anyway, I'm really enjoying blogging this journal. I used to hate the idea of getting into a rhythm of things, and I don't think I've ever managed to compel myself to writing in a diary past February, but I've actually written four sizeable days' worth of writing.
Still, I don't think I'd ever be able to seriously do writing professionally. I'm terrible with deadlines, absolutely dreadful. My writers' block would make me an impoverished wreck. It would be fun, I suppose, but I'd definitely never go in for creative writing, and probably not journalism. Although I was seriously considering a degree in it at one point. With 3 years of English on the cards, I'm not exactly set on any career paths.
I probably shouldn't feel so weird about the idea of doing work that I would actually enjoy, but there is something inherently unnatural about that. I guess I decided to work on something more realistic, and thereby postponed all ideas for job opportunities. Which is what most people do! I'm really looking forward to doing English, though. I want university to be the best 3 years of my life, and I'm sure it will be. I think writing will definitely be part of that, and yes, I can enjoy it. I'm sure work just detracts from anything you enjoy, so I can only come to the conclusion that it's all good. :)