Breakfast in a youth hostel on day 4 of my placement. The fact that I’m interspersing my porridge spooning with keyboard stabs at 8am should be enough to tell you my placement is full on. I’m not complaining – everyone there is working beyond capacity, but still managing to be very nice and show me things. It’s good when I’m doing something that actually feels helpful. So far I’ve done a first edit on a 200 page book, written blurbs and a reader’s report for it and done editorial notes. I’m pretty sure that all this will be done again by one of them too, which is quite right: this book is someone’s new baby, they don’t want to leave it in the care of some incompetent spotty teenage babysitter! I’ve also proofread the new catalogue and stuck new labels on tubes of fruit pastilles (don’t ask – I’m not sure if they come under the confidentiality clause I’ve signed).
So right now I need to get on the move and leave the dining room – youth hostels in February seem to be the domain of women who might be making a stand against the age discriminatory name of the place, or maybe we are all just on placements and want somewhere cheap and warm to rest weary heads. .My desk awaits, and at least this morning I’ll know how to turn on my computer – that was embarrassing!
