I've signed up for a freelance journalism course.
I gave up my fledgling journalistic career years ago after I became a story I couldn't write.
Post Masters, with jobs in scant supply, waiting for the cheaper rent of a council property, I want something to do.
My teacher is very good. A successful journalist herself, she imparts her knowledge and wisdom to the rest of us.
Last week she assassinated my copy. This is good. This is why I'm doing the course. To learn.
It was copy about housing. This week we have to come up with a feature idea. I am not going to write something about housing and homeless people and life on benefits or any of that depressing stuff.
That's because in the future I won't want to dwell on that although at this juncture that's impossible to say. It's hard for me to think outside the situation I am in, it so dominates my life.
Tonight I'm going to think outside my navel. I may change my name to help the ideas along.
I dunno, something like "Grains are good for you'' by Henrietta Loafe or "Camping in the Lake District" by Summer Wether.
Freelancing is tricky when husband is the state so this really is the future when I...?