I think it’s fair to say that my short-term job has been an experience similar to being thrown into a maelstrom with no warning whatsoever. Unlike the thrill-seekers who jump into suchlike to film themselves being whirled around in a dangerous and out-of-control manner, I had no idea what I was letting myself in for.

Coming home is a blissful relief from chaos and disorder of a magnitude that I didn't know existed. I have come to the conclusion that I have lived a VERY sheltered life. Even so, I have learned a lot about myself and about life in the three short but at the same time interminably long days of my working experience so far.

When I started on this little journey into the unknown, I thought it’d be a couple of weeks of gaiety and straightforward fun. DM said “do it, you’ll love it, it’ll be a good antidote to exams and Uni”. Ha. I’ve discovered that there is nothing straightforward about the job. It’s unpredictable. It’s exhausting. It’s hare-raising (sic). It’s also full of politics that I didn’t expect. That’s not to say it isn’t also great fun. That’s not to say that I get a rosier view through the end of a pack of four.

OK – this is childishly stupid – when I got to the end of my second para, I discovered something that made me smile. Para 1 ends in for. Para 2 ends in far. So, I have crow-barred in a “four” at the end of para 3. Now all I have to say is “East Fife five” and we have a footie score to make any seasoned footie fan smile… unless you’re a Forfar fan that is! (And unless the score in question is Spurs 8 the Arse 0.)


This hare was a gift from DM - it's another thing of great beauty in my view - not that I can take any credit for it.